Advent Calendar
by Mini Peacelet
Summary: 24 one shots as we count down to Christmas 2015! All written around a festive word. Variety of characters and pairings.
1. Snowballs

**_A/N:_** _I'm back! I haven't posted anything in ages and have been trying to get back into writing, so decided to try another advent calendar style fic like I did last year! Although this time I actually hope to complete it!_

 _So like last year, from the 1st until Christmas Eve, I shall post a new one shot daily. They will basically be mini one shots, really. Again, focused around a Christmas/wintery word._

 _There will be a variety of characters and pairings. I have written 12 out of 24 so far but if you have any festive prompts for winter or Christmas they'd be much appreciated. The first chapter contains a mixture of characters to start._

 _I hope you enjoy the first one, my writing is a little rusty at the moment though!_

 _~Mini Peacelet~_

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 **Advent Calender**

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1\. Snowballs

"Of all the days Guy Elf could have selected." The clinical lead muttered irritably, traipsing through the thick snow in the company of several other staff from the ED, her head dipped to protect her face from the bitter flurries of whirling wind and snowflakes.

It was cold. The ground was frozen and coated in a dense layer of fluffy white. Connie tugged her expensive quilted coat around her frame tightly, her fuzzy scarf secure around her neck. The prospect of a day in the forested area outside of Holby wasn't slightly appealing, neither the company of her doctors and nurses appetising. Her trademark Louboutins stilettos had reluctantly been switched for more appropriate footwear - though still boots with the famous red soles. Glossy curls of chestnut locks danced freely in the wind about her shoulders beneath the wooly hat planted on top of her head.

Cal, Robyn and Lofty were much more passionate about the team building day ahead, and welcoming to the wintry conditions. The trio skipped and hopped with peppy pleasure in the snow, collecting scoops in their hands and hurling it around with little aim.

Lily huffed dramatically, arms folded sharply across her chest, "This is so stupid, we are doctors not enthusiastic scouts looking for extra brownie points. We should be at the hospital treating patients like we are trained. The ED will be under additional pressure as a result of the weather and this has left it short staffed. Unprofessional."

"Cheer up, darling." The blonde clinical nurse manager appeared, patting the registrar's shoulders through her knitted mittens, "We can hardlines function the ED to the best possible standard if the staff can't pull together as a team."

"She has a point." Feeble and submissive, Ethan hesitantly disagreed with his colleague as he rubbed his glasses yet again as the chilly air colliding with radiating body heat misted them.

The newly married couple who huddled together for the hike, hands interlaced gracefully, groaned at the request to quit the lovestruck act and quicken the pace. A temptation of a spitting camp fire promised at their destination seemed to have the desired effect. Though Connie failed to mention the detail that they would have to locate necessary resources and construct the fire first.

The naked branches of the trees, stripped from their colourful leaves, curved and groaned beneath the weight of the snow that caked the bark. Birds tweeted and sung whilst pecking at the hard ground, searching for scarce food. It was a scene of lacy white and contrasting dark wood. A true winter landscape.

Alternatively to working together to erect tents in two teams, Guy Self instructed them to try to structure igloos - it was way more appropriate changes considering the weather. Divided into two teams, they began to generate blocks of frozen water. Some more passionate than others.

A cutting squeal drifted from the clinical nurse managers lips; high pitched and startled cacophony followed by expletives. Tongue poked out the corner of her lips in intense concentration, she had knelt down to add her perfectly constructed snow block to the progressing igloo. Someone had thrown a snowball - missed it's intended target - and collided with the bare skin of the woman's lower back, where her jumand leather jacket had parted from the line of her jeans.

"Robyn!"

Instantly, Rita began to assemble the crunchy snow in her palms, compacting it together into a tidy sphere and catapulted it through the air towards the ginger-haired nurse. Suspecting, the younger female shifted sideways and the snowball continued in the direction of it's new goal. _Connie_.

"Oh!" The sophisticated consultant gasped in sheer terror as the compressed snow crashed into her shoulder, catching her off guard.

The blonde clasped her hands over her parted lips, orbs expanded with panic and stun, "Mrs Beauchamp, I am so _so_ sorry-"

Much to the revelation of the staff, the brunette simply shrugged it off subsequently to recovering from the initial shock and her frosty breath as she laughed emerged into the atmosphere. Winters with a young daughter had adapted her to the fun snow bought. She gathered her own snowball and tossed it, gliding smoothly through the air. Rita dodged. It hit Max.

That triggered a series of snowballs flying at different people. Max chose his wife despite her pleading objects. Zoe then knocked Dylan with hers. His met Cal's and his victim was an angered Lily. The succession of snowballs continued, evolving into a full scale snowball fight.

Snowballs soared through the crisp skies. The doctors and nurses eluded the balls of snow desperately, diving behind tree trunks and other makeshift shelters. Cheeks were rosy and flushed with the chill and adrenaline rush. Giggles crowded the fresh ambience. And the previous stresses and tensions that had formed at the ED suddenly lifted and relaxed.


	2. Wrapping Paper

_**A/N:** thank you to those who read and left reviews! I literally have no idea what order to post these in, so I picked at random and today's is Zoe/Max._

 _What would you like to see next? I think I have a Cal/Ethan one, Connie/Rita, Rita/Dixie, Dylan/Lofty, Rita/Iain...I can't actually remember haha! Anyway, hope you like this one!_

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 **Advent Calendar**

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2\. Wrapping Paper

"These are wrapped well...for a man." The consultant shifted her gaze momentarily, flickering with a smirk towards her husband who appeared incredibly passionate about wanting her to open selected presents early. Today was Christmas Eve.

The wrapping paper had been cut with precision, sealed neatly with symmetrical strips of sticky tape. He had elected a festive red that was polished and radiated a glossy shimmer with delicate gold bells printed at regular intervals.

"Well I went to an extensive effort and research to make sure they wrapped neatly."

It was true. Max had invested masses of time and had studied programmes on the perfect Christmas that covered a range of essentials. Originally, he had been searching for advice on the traditional dinner but subsequently to being clueless to half the ingredients, how to wrap presents was so much more appetising.

A slight chuckle hovered from her lipstick coated lips, "At least I know you can wrap all mine for me next year since you're such an expert."

Zoe freed the first item from the crisp paper, a perplexed frown succumbing her features, "A collar and lead? Max, I don't understand?"

The porter refused to enlighten any further, simply prompting, "Open the others."

She nodded apprehensively and started to peel the wrapping paper off the other two objects, exposing a fluffy, black blanket adorned with white paw prints and some treats. Dog treats.

"It's a lovely gesture...but Max, we don't have a dog." An authentic statement was still accompanied with a bewildered expression, her perfectly shaped eyebrow puckered into an arch. She was impatient for an explanation.

He was grinning infectiously. Arms folded across his chest as he relaxed innocently on the plush sofa with his feet propped on the coffee table. And his wife's exasperation combined with confusion was escalating dramatically.

"Max! What is going on?! What have you done? Please tell me! The suspense is killing."

The brunette's misery and anticipation was prolonged, though, as the doorbell chimed and the porter leapt to his feet and made a hasty retreat into the kitchen and to the front door. She groaned frustratedly and diverted her attention back towards the peculiar presents her husband had granted her with, trying to think of a logical conclusion.

Logic. Max very rarely used logic, so whatever the reason may be was likely to be spontaneous. But his heart was always in the correct place.

"Hey Zo!" He called out, tone rich with passionate spirit and zealousness, "Come here and all will be explained!"

Zoe regained her equilibrium tentatively, the click of her designer stilettos - Jimmy Choo - echoing through the hall as they collided repeatedly with the wooden surface, and she paced towards her husband and mysterious visitor.

"Who's at the door?" She was still quizzical as she peered outside, nobody visible.

"Lofty!"

At the shout of his name, the curly-haired nurse came into sight with a fidgeting bundle secure in his arms. A little Jack Russell puppy that he handed to the porter.

"This is one of your Christmas presents." Max finally announced as he grasped the tiny dog that fervently tried to lick his face and wriggle free from his hold. "Cheers Lofty! I owe you one!"

"A puppy?" Zoe stared at the excitable six week old dog that he gently placed on the floor who raced off to check out her new home and skidded to a halt, landing in a pile as she slipped on the tiles.

"Yeah...I thought, well since you can't have kids - and I know how disappointed you are about that - that I'd get you a pet. Someone else to take care of. And something to liven up our home. She'd be a great edition. But I couldn't exactly hide her in wrapping paper until tomorrow!" The porter approached the subject with care, a smile of sympathy. "She's already settling in." He remained hopeful that his idea wasn't about to backfire.

There was a moment of suspense before his wife nodded, "It's a lovely idea. Does she have a name?"

They followed the furry puppy into the living room, the consultant squealing frantically as she learnt the dog was chewing at one of her Jimmy Choo heels she had deposited in the corner of the room. "Max!"

The male's eyes expanded as he realised the seriousness of the situation and rushed across the room, retrieving the dog from the mischief she had already discovered, "I think she should be called Furball."

"Or Connie." He muttered as he flopped onto the sofa, the brown and white puppy growling loudly at being disturbed.

Zoe stifled a laugh and shook her head, "You can't call her Connie! I - we - need to be able to take our boss seriously. She would be most disgusted if she knew."

"Okay, what about...Patch?!"


	3. Gingerbread

_**A/N:** I love reading your reviews, so thank you! _

_I do have a freechamp one shot ;) though it's like the best one I have written so far (in my opinion) so I'm saving it for a bit later! I am currently working on another Freechamp one too! Watch this space :)_

 _I can only vaguely remember Jess and Adam, sorry. I don't think I could write them with any decent accuracy :(_

 _I have Rita/Dixie one completed and was debating posting today but I decided on the Rita and Iain one instead! Xx_

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 **Advent Calander**

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3\. Gingerbread

"Rita?" The paramedic rubbed at his bleary eyes, trudging through the living room and following the dazzling artificial light that glowed into the velvety darkness, guiding him to the kitchen.

He squinted, blurry vision hindering the ability to interpret the tiny digitally displayed clock. "It's eleven minutes past two - in the morning! What are you doing?"

Rita twisted her head, jerking at the unanticipated company. Startled. "Making gingerbread cookies." It was relatively obvious; her hands were plunged into a bowl, mixing the contents. Ingredients scattered the counter, flour sprinkled haphazardly where the sack had slouched over. The milled product was even streaked across her cheek, a dot of mix splashed on the tip of her nose.

"Why at this uncivilised hour, though?"

She elevated her hands free of the batter, delicate skin caked in the sticky gingerbread dough, " _Your_ baby is keeping me awake again with this monotonous kicking and fidgeting, plus _he_ is now hungry. I am craving gingerbread _again_ , but I've demolished the last batch."

"I only made them yesterday," Iain was already open the cupboard door, scanning the contents, "What about the emergency packet-"

"I ate them too." The nurse instantly predicted his thoughts, "You really need to find a better hiding place. That was so probable; like the first place I checked."

His lethargic eyes hastily expanded, impulsively awake when the remainder of the previous response finally processed. Slow and jumbled. "Wait! Why is it suddenly my baby? I certainly didn't create that child on my own. And since when was it a boy?! We agreed we wouldn't find out until the birth."

"Some old myth of my grandmother's. Just the positioning of the baby bump. She guessed perfectly right for me and my brother. My bump hangs slightly to the right." Rita paused, dropping the rolling pin on the side and lightly dusted the surface with flour to prevent further sticking.

"Also, this baby definitely has acquired your gigantic appetite and kicks way too hard and stubbornly to be a girl." She added pointedly, pressing the cookie cutter into the thin dough repeatedly.

"That is not a fair - or realistic - system to work on." The paramedic huffed dramatically, promptly changing the topic.

"You should have woken me, I'd have gone to the shops for you," Muscular arms entwined themselves around his wife's waist, positioned gentle on her forever expanding stomach, "and the baby."

"That's not fair when you are on shift in the morning," It was a stubborn objection, still refusing to ask for help and lower independence this far into her pregnancy. The shapes of dough were neatly aligned on a baking tray.

"These will be ready soon, can you put them in the oven please? I would but my feet and back ache and the thought of bending down-"

"Of course," Pecking her cheek, he lifted the tin tray from the counter and pushed it into the preheated oven, "Let's go into the living room, you can relax and put your feet up while they bake."

Rita was soon enveloped in her husband's arms, snuggled beneath a fluffy blanket with her socked feet poking out the end due to the blanket gathering at her bump. They drifted into a peaceful slumber. Until the cacophonous growl of the blonde's rumbling stomach woke them with a start. And the bitter scent of burning. Burning gingerbread.

The male leapt to his feet, rushing into the kitchen and gasping the oven mittens to rescue the charred biscuits. Rather than being a delicious golden, they were a scorched chocolate.

She groaned sadly as she entered the kitchen shortly after, regaining her equilibrium a little more challenging than her agile partners. Her hand stroked her bump, "You'll have to wait a little while longer, I'm afraid."

Iain was opening a couple windows, allowing the burnt aroma to diffuse from their home, the wispy wind whirling in, yet it was quite refreshing. He returned to the cupboard he had searched a mere half an hour ago, "What about a gingerbread latte?"

Her perfectly shaped eyebrow arced disapprovingly, "Really? Like the baby needs an extra help to keep me awake. I need sleep not caffeine. And coffee won't fill up our hungry little child."

"True," A nod of agreement as he slipped his feet into his trainers, "I'll go get you some from the shop." But as he got ready to leave, she suddenly noticed something. A more pressing matter.

"Iain...my ring has disappeared."

"What?" His expression was puzzled.

"My wedding ring." She waved her left hand in his direction, slender fingers free from the jewellery item that had gone missing.

The rose gold ring never left her finger, she had always refused to remove it, "When did you last have it?"

"Before I started making the gingerbread cookies..."

Iain glanced at his wife and then diverted his gaze back to the biscuits. _Those darn gingerbread cookies_. Of course, the mixture would have been sticky, and the clinical nurse manager elected to use her hands as opposed to a spoon. It had to be baked in one of the biscuits.


	4. Hot Chocolate

**_A/N:_** _It's 3 weeks until Christmas dayy! Thank you again for the reviews. Number 4 is Rita and Dixie :)_

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 **Advent Calendar**

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4\. Hot Chocolate

"It is so _so_ cold out there!" The blonde's arms were enveloped around the knitted jumper that hugged her petite figure, fiercely attempting to warm her chilled bones after she shrugged off her thick coat onto the stair banister with her scarf.

The temperature fluctuated around freezing point; a fresh flutter of delicate snowflakes twirling from the winter skies again, settling on the crisp layers of snow that adorned the frozen ground. Rita had just trudged home subsequently to a gruelling shift in the hectic ED, patient numbers had been exceptionally high due to victims of the icy conditions.

She slipped her feet from her boots and submersed them into her fluffy slipper boots that were toasty from being situated beneath the roasting radiator. As she emerged into the kitchen, she instantly flicked the kettle on to boil and began assembling items that contributed to a steamy mug of hot chocolate. A cup, teaspoon, milk and cocoa powder.

"What are you doing?" The voice of the paramedic laced the ambience as the older blonde propped herself against the door frame in her festive jumper, observing tentatively.

The yellow labrador they shared their home with retreated from his favoured position of sprawled on the rug in front of the crackling fire to greet his other owner, curling his agile body around the nurse's legs in order to transfer body heat.

"Hey Abs," Her hand stroked the dog's head affectionately after dropping the third spoonful of chocolatey powder into the mug, "Making hot chocolate."

Dixie's orbs expanded dramatically, burning with alarmed horror. "No, no, no. That is not how you make hot chocolate. _Ever_."

The clinical nurse manager's lips twitched into a perplexed frown, creasing at the corners, "What?"

She paced lightly to her partner, mutedly removing the mug and spoon from her tender hands with care and tipped the cocoa powder back into the tub, "You go settle in front of the fire with a blanket, it's really alive now. And I'll make you one of the special Dixie's famous hot chocolates!"

Exhaustion was threatening to immerse her fatigued body, dark eyes blearily and shadowing with the temptations of sleep. Objecting was too much effort, so she ambled into the cosy lounge followed by her canine friend.

Dixie gathered a small saucepan from the cupboard and assembled it onto the hob, twisting the heat to a generous mark whilst she added an adequate amount of semi-skimmed milk to the pot. Swirling a spoon around in a regular rhythm, she patiently watched the white liquid simmer, tiny bubbles beginning to form a short while later. Satisfied the milk was nearly at the desired temperature, the ambulance driver whisked in the cocoa granules to create a silkily smooth, chocolatey beverage that poured with evaporating steam releasing the rich, rustic aromas of a favourite treat.

The hot chocolate was divided into two mugs with a soup ladle and a lavish shot of the trademark of what made the paramedic's hot chocolate so memorable and adored. It was then topped with a spiralled coil of whipped cream and dotted marshmallows.

"Here we go," She announced proudly upon returning to the lounge and flopping down next to her girlfriend on the snug couch and passed over one of the cups.

"That took ageees." The complaint was accompanied by a mumbled groan, yet Rita accepted the mug gratefully and curled her fingers tightly around the pottery, allowing the heat to radiate and warm her frozen fingers while she waved her feet in front of the spitting flames of the fire.

"But it's worth it, right?"

The younger blonde pressed her lips around the edge of the mug, pulling back as the cream touched her nose and left a blob at the very tip. A smirk adopted Dixie's features as she perceived her lover attempt and fail to try to use her tongue to lick away the whipped cream.

With a huff, she reluctantly surrendered and wiped the cream away with the back of her hand and cautiously lifted the mug back to her lips. She inhaled the savouring scent primarily before ingesting a sip and pondered over the unique differences between her own hot chocolate and the older females.

"Well..." Deliberate pause. "I suppose it's _quite_ good..." The nurse concluded finally, tilting her head up and twisting to face the other woman to see the reaction. A teasing hint edged her words. This hot chocolate was more than worth the wait. Perfectly warming from the top of her throat all the way down to the pit of her stomach with a twist on a classic taste.

The paramedic's eyebrow was arced sharply, "Quite good? Do you know-"

"Relax!" She dissolved into amused giggles, "I'm just joking. It's very good and definitely worth the wait." Shuffling slightly, she pecked her lips with her chocolate coated lips and grinned. "What have you added as extra, though?" Piqued with curiosity, she narrowed her gaze to study intently.

"It's a secret." Dixie sucked in a deep breath and ran her tongue roughly over her lips to erase the excess chocolate. Now it was her turn to torment.

"Dix.." Ensuring that the drinks were safely placed on the table, the smaller blonde lunged a full on tickle attack with an innocent pout and fluttering of her thick black lashes, "You know you really really love me so you'll tell me!"

"Okay, okay!" Hands held up in defence, "It's _baileys_."


	5. Mistletoe

**_A/N:_** _thanks again for reading and reviewing!_

 _Tato Potato: Sorry for not replying to this like request yesterday, I totally forgot as I was in a rush to post! I will try and write a Sam and Tom one if I can think of an idea to fit! And I have a Cal and Ethan one ready, it will probably be posted in the next 3 days! ;)_

 _Today's one shot involves a selection of characters, and could probably be a look into my slightly crazy mind, and it is sort of my take on a Christmas party :)_

 _I am now going to decorate my Christmas tree, have a great day everyone!_

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 **Advent Calendar**

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5\. Mistletoe

Connie halted outside the pub that whirred with life, enveloped in her thick coat, mulling over why she had concurred to attend the department's Christmas party. Pubs generally weren't her scene, especially this pub in particular. Her taste preferred classy restaurants or bars for the exclusive.

"Why did I allow Zoe to talk me into this." Her breath was visible, a white mist as she blew out a breath, shuddering beneath her winter coat and quilted scarf. Lips pressed together, she inhaled the chilly air to her lungs and resumed her paces towards the entrance.

The tunes of favourite festive songs echoed off the walls of the inn, combined with spirited chatter and intoxicated karaoke. An ocean of tinsel, fairy lights and baubles garnished the place, essences of seasonal spices tickled nostrils united with the scents of wine and beers.

She stepped through the spacious doors. Welcomed by the pleasantly toasty ambience; a harsh contrast to the bitter air of the outdoors. Shrugging her coat off, she raked her elegant hand through her glossy curls that cascaded about her shoulders.

"Excuse me," Connie requested politely, solemn for the male blocking her path to shift aside and allow her past. "Doctor Knight, please move."

Caleb was grinning widely, that irritating beam that etched his features whenever he planned something successful. "Nope." He glanced upwards briefly before fixating his gaze on his boss.

Following his gaze, the sophisticated consultant swivelled her dark orbs up and perceived the reason to why she was stuck here, unable to get to the bar. The corners of her lipstick coated lips curled into a slight smirk, highlighting the freckles on her nose and cheeks, "That's cabbage. Nice try."

"It's not cabbage! It's mistletoe."

"That may be cabbage but this is mistletoe!" They were suddenly in company, the cheeky porter had assessed the situation and arrived to Cal's aid, equipped with a real sprig of mistletoe that he held above the pair.

Teeth gritted, she rolled her eyes, "You cannot be serious." Arms folded across her chest, she pursed her lips.

"It's mistletoe and you know what that means!" The doctor's tone was delightfully teasing, proud that he was finally going to share a kiss with the beautiful consultant he had been trying it on with since day one.

Connie groaned disdainfully, apprehending that there was no way to escape this kiss. She reluctantly nodded, "Well if you insist."

Subsequently to a brief hesitance, their lips collided, brushing tentatively against one another's. She could taste the bitter residue of beer that lingered on his lips, evidently the doctor had already consumed a fair quantity of pints impending her arrival. The kiss ended, and the brunette gratefully created a distance between herself and the man, gathering her composure consciously.

"Can I by you a drink?"

"Don't push your luck." She muttered cuttingly, stalking away in the direction of the bar to purchase a glass of wine.

Content that his work was completed with the magical mistletoe, Max moved on to the next victims of standing beneath mistletoe.

Dixie and Robyn.

A muted cough as he pretended to clear his throat alerted the pair to the situation. They both giggled and took it with great spirit - partially influenced by the alcohol - and kissed without fuss.

Lofty and Lily, on the other hand, were not seeing the funny side of things quite so easily. The curly haired nurse was amused by the whole ordeal. Dr Chao, however, was arguing blatantly.

"Why are you going around, hanging that stupid mistletoe over random people?!" She demanded hostilely, eyes flickering with rage.

"To be fair, it's not really my fault." The young male defended, "Noel and Big Mac dared me so...I have to oblige."

"Well it's ludicrous."

"Why aren't you happy, Lily? It's nearly Christmas and the snow is beginning to fall!" The female doctor seemed even more irritable than usual at this particularly jolly time of year.

"I am a doctor in an emergency department. Christmas is one of the most busy, pressured times of the year that just results in more casualties. Do you know how many people get paralytically drunk and do stupid things? The Christmas dinner disasters that means a trip to the ED? No. And I am not kissing that immature nurse, so take yourself and your mistletoe elsewhere." She huffed a pointed lecture before storming off.

Next on Max Walker's list were Iain and Dylan. Apprehensively, he approached the pair who were sharing stories from over the years with a pint.

The paramedic dissolved into laughter as he captured sight of the two leaves of mistletoe suspending above him.

Dylan arched his eyebrow and a sincere expression, "What is _that_?!"

"Mistletoe."

"And whoever is lucky - or perhaps unlucky - enough yo be stood under it at the time have to kiss." Iain added, sipping at his pint again whilst waiting for a reaction from the consultant.

Fortunately, the doctor also found great humour in the mistletoe.

"I never thought I'd be able to say that I've kissed Iain Dean."


	6. Driving Home For Christmas

_**A/N:** thank you for the reviews! Here's a Freechamp one shot! It's not my favourite out of the Freechamp one shots I have waiting but saving the best until later :p hope you like it! Sorry today's post is later than usual, I've been busy! Xx_

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 **Advent Calander**

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6\. Driving Home For Christmas

A piercing cacophony startled the blonde from her restless slumber. Her orbs snapped open, though she could perceive nothing but the velvet darkness that accompanied 4 o'clock in the morning. The clattering persisted, foot steps harsh when they collided with the glossy tiles that adorned the flooring downstairs.

Rita jerked to a bolt upright posture, fingers curled around the edge of the satiny duvet cover and her azure eyes snapped open with disconcerted fear. She tapped the bedside light on, the dim yellow glow of the dullest setting radiating through the spacious room. Instinctively, the blonde leapt out of the bed and searched to equip herself with some form of protection.

The clinical lead's dumbbell weights. Creeping on her tippy toes, she emerged from the bedroom and tentatively descended the stairs. Her breath was held tensely, lungs starved of the oxygen they craved. Burning with attentiveness, she double checked that the coast was clear and lightly treaded through the living room, following the source of artificial light.

She paused, waiting cautiously. Convinced that there was an unwelcome intruder in her home. Hidden behind the door, she watched vigilant before pouncing with her armed weights, about to hurl the heavy object at the human, intending to knock them out.

But she restrained herself; just in time. The nurse captured a glimpse of the red soled shoes. Exquisite dark material flowed generously, the quality quilt identifiable as some designer brand, straggled locks of saturated curls dripping.

" _Connie_!"

The figure gasped, pirouetting sharply and exclaimed, "Rita!" The sucked in breath blew from her lips, hovering into the air; towel in her manicured hands halted in mid movement where she tried to pat at her sodden curls to remove excess water. "Merry Christmas, my little pixie!"

"I thought you were in London-" she dashed across the icily chilly floor promptly, still grasping the dumbbell securely and tossed her arms zealously around her wife, gasping hastily, "Never mind Merry Christmas, you are absolutely freezing! Wait here!"

The weight was dropped onto the counter as she scooted through to the airing cupboard and seized a copious fluffy towel from a pile and darted back to the kitchen. "You are frozen, we need to get you warm otherwise Merry Christmas will be in the ED, with you endangered by hypothermia!"

Her nurse impulses kicked in instantly, aiding her lover from her soaked clothes and enveloping her in the warm towel and her inviting embrace, trying to share her own body heat with her violently shivering wife. "You need to go for a hot shower, and I'll male you a hot drink. Right now, we can talk after." Authority stamped her tone, reinforced with a pointed finger and her solemn expression.

They were soon snuggled up in bed beneath many blankets and covers, the heaters twisted onto full and blasting out extra heat. The brunette nursed a steaming mug of hot cocoa, sipping at the chocolatey liquid that scented the ambience whilst Rita loosely pinned her thick damp hair up, preventing the cold strands contacting with the exposed skin of her neck.

"Reet," The sophisticated consultant turned her head slightly, admiring her partner's natural skin, luminous shadows and sparklingly rich orbs in the fuzzy light, "What were you doing with one of my weights?" It was puzzling; perplexity creasing her forehead.

She chewed the edge of her lip subconsciously, cheeks flushing a rosy pink, "I...well, uh...I thought you were a burglar!"

Connie's flawlessly shaped eyebrow arched, "A burglar?!" She coughed, the mouthful of beverage swallowing the wrong way, "In a pair of Louboutin heels who turns lights on?!"

The younger female shrugged sheepishly and murmured, "You never know..."

Her luscious laugh and infectious smile enhanced her freckles, shaking her head helplessly at the woman's insane logic.

Rita's head tilted to rest gently on her wife's shoulder, arm draped across her stomach, "I thought you were stranded in London because of the heavy snowfall. I wasn't expecting to see you today."

"I was." A petite nod. The brunette had been attending a last minute conference linked with emergency department leaders from across the country in the capital on the 22nd, intending to return home on the 23rd. But abundances of thick snow coated the ground unexpectedly, grinding Britain's transport systems to a chaotic standstill. She had chosen to fly, but her return flight had been delayed and cancelled for reschedule. Christmas Eve had arrived and there was no indication that her flight would commence due to the backlogs and continuing flurries of snow. The couple were preparing to spend the festive day apart.

"The motorways and main routes were starting to be cleared from snow, salt application preventing further snowfall from settling. I didn't want to be away from you for our very first Christmas as a wedded couple. So I hired a car. Unfortunately the conditions deteriorated rapidly as I left the motorways in exchange for the narrow roads of Holby and I got stuck. With a couple of miles to go, walking appeared to be the most logical solution. And here I am."

Connie explained her treacherous journey, grateful to be safely back at home, cosy with the woman who had become her soulmate, her world, _her life_. And they would be able to spend Christmas together. Even after the unanticipated start.

"Merry Christmas my ice queen who is actually just a soft cinnamon roll in reality." Rita whispered, tenderly brushing her lips against her wife's. Savouring the electrical impulses that were still present, like the very first time they had kissed, inhaling her sweet perfume and soap. "Let's get some sleep."


	7. Scrooge

_**A/N:** as always, thank you for reading and reviewing! This one is mainly Dylan and Lofty, but with the mention of other characters too! Not sure how many Dyfty readers are on here but on tumblr they seem to be quite a big thing, so I'll go post over there too! Tomorrow's ficlet will be an Ethan and Cal one :)_

 _I have nine more one shots to write to make 24 so hopefully I'll make it this year!_

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 **Advent Calander**

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7\. Scrooge

"Dylan!" Lofty beamed as he dashed into the staffroom once perceiving the arrival of the doctor who was occupied by burying his possessions into his locker. "I've got something for you."

"You bought Dervla in!" He shifted towards the dog, stroking her head affectionately.

Spinning round tentatively, Dr Keogh balanced his stethoscope around his neck and adjusted it to be level. He was about to inquire about the mystery gift but his attention was diverted to the nurse's appearance.

The typically blue nurse attire was now dotted with a vast quantity of white snowflakes that had repeatedly been stamped across the fabric. On top of his dark curls was a santa hat that had also been customised with matching snowflakes, and black cursive writing was printed on the white fur strip that edged the hat.

" _Lapland Lofty_." He read the print from the hat, scowling while scratching his head in puzzlement, "What an earth has happened to your clothes? It looks like a poor production of a kid's nativity costume gone wrong."

"For Christmas this year everyone is adopting slightly different names, just to add some festive spirit to the ED and hopefully cheer up some of the unfortunate soles admitted." The nurse was still grinning infectiously, zealous and passionate about the new idea that flowed through the department.

"I'm ' _Lapland Lofty_ ', and because it's snowy in Lapland, I added snowflakes to my uniform." Lofty continued to explain fervently, "Dr Hardy is ' _Elfy Ethan_ ' and is wearing an elf hat that says that and has combined his scrubs to look like an elf outfit! Robyn is ' _Robin Robyn_ '."

He persisted to inform the consultant about each individual's seasonal name, including ' _Reindeer Rita_ ' who proudly sported festive antlers, another doctor wore a Christmas tree hat fitted with lights that flashed diverse colours ' _Christmas Tree Cal_ '.

The porter had been nicknamed ' _Mince Pie Max_ ' with a mince pie hat and a tub hanging round his neck containing free mince pies he handed out throughout the day. Zoe's additional garment was a headband fixated with a Christmas themed Starbucks cup added, printed with the words ' _Hot Chocolate Hanna_ '; not only did it fit the topic but it also highlighted her love for rich, rustic coffee beans.

He grunted and rotated back to his locker, pinning his name badge to his shirt and shutting the door with a clatter. "Another imbecilic plan that won't last. I can't imagine Connie approves, it's too juvenile and absurd."

"Actually, Mrs Beauchamp has granted permission and is participating herself." The nurse was pleasantly surprised himself when the clinical lead had agreed and accepted her festive name of ' _Baubles Beauchamp'_ , adding elements of a santa hat adorned with miniature baubles and a necklace created from baubles to her daily attire.

Dr Keogh scoffed, "That just confirms that everyone around here is completely insane. I am not partaking. This is an emergency department, not a school play."

"Please, Dylan!" Lofty was desperate as he presented the gold crown with _'King Keogh_ ' wrote across the middle, "We had this made for you. You'll be the only one not fitting the theme of our department."

" _King Keogh_? Really." He ridiculed the name, "I am not wearing that tacky thing."

"Why? Don't you like Christmas?"

"I hate Christmas." It was solemn statement. He loathed all the fancy decorations he had yo work in the midst of, forever becoming tangled in the swinging tinsel he had to batter away.

Nurse Chiltern's eyes expanded, lips curved into a serious frown of pure shock, "How can anyone hate Christmas?! It's such a jolly time of the year where happiness should be expressed and shared!"

"It's a waste of time and money these days. Not to mention all those fancy trimmings that are just as awful." He muttered, glancing towards his watch. While this discussion was taking place, he wasn't saving lives. "Is that all?"

Lofty paced towards Dervla who had settled in the corner, "Well, how do you spend Christmas then?"

"Dervla and I will be spending Christmas day watching Downtown Abbey this year."

"You can't be alone for Christmas!" The curly haired male shook his head in disdain, "No. I am going to make it mine and everyone else's mission to make you love Christmas just like us all! See, even Dervla approves." He had trailed a strand of twinkling gold tinsel over the dog who wagged her tail contently.

Folding his arms across his chest, he reluctantly agreed with a grunt, "Fine, I'll wear the idiotic crown. But for goodness sake, take that tinsel off my poor Dervla before I report you to the RSPCA!"

Lofty grinned, removing the tinsel from Dervla as requested and returning it to the shelf, "We can get you a hat that says Scrooge if you prefer?"

"No, the crown is just fine."

"Okay then, _King Keogh_! Let's go save some lives!" The nurse bounced out of the staffroom, proud that he had made somewhat of a start in converting their own Ebenezer Scrooge. "King was the only word we could think of beginning with K. D is just as hard. But we figured that king would be perfect because of the three wise kings, and you are the wisest person here."

Dylan, equipped with his crown, ambled out into the ED and over to the nurses station to collect his first patient file. A patient with a mystery allergic reaction. It was time to play detective, and that one one of the aspects that made him love medicine.


	8. Santa Clause Is Coming To Town

**_A/N:_** _so we are one third of the way through this advent calendar today! Thank you for reading and reviewing! This one is Ethan/Cal. Again, I don't really write for these characters so sorry that's it's short and not great Xx_

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 **Advent Calander**

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8\. Santa Clause Is Coming To Town

" _You better watch out, you better not cry, better not pout, I'm telling you why, santa clause is coming to town._ "

Cal hummed to the captivating melody of the famous song of the festive season that blared out from the music channel in the living room. He was in the kitchen, Matilda cradled securely in the crook of his right arm.

Mince pies, bright orange carrots, snowy milk, and a decorative plate and glass in red and green adorned the polished counter. The doctor was assembling a traditional feast to deposit at the fire place for santa and his magical reindeers.

"We can't have father christmas and all those reindeers of his going hungry now, can we?" He cooed to his daughter who gurgled contently to herself as they padded back into the living room equipped with a plate containing a couple of mince pies, half a dozen carrots and a glass of white precariously balanced next to the other snacks.

" _He's making a list, and checking it twice, gonna find out who's naughty and nice, santa clause is coming to town._ "

Caleb smoothly sung the words to the next verse in a low pitched tone, a smile curving his lips when Matilda gurgled and clumsily extended her tiny hands towards her father.

"Cal! What an earth are you doing?!"

The tender moment was crushed as Ethan had vaulted from his cosy arm chair and dashed across to his brother and niece in a blanket of panic. The younger sibling seized the crystal glass of trembling liquid from the plate before it tumbled either to the floor or over the innocent infant.

"Me and Matilda are just ensuring that Santa, Rudolph, Prancer, Dancer, Dasher, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Dunder and Blitzen don't get hungry on their busy and important journey. Stop making a fuss." Dr Knight rolled his eyes dramatically, brushing past his brother and deposited the plate of goodies on the fire place.

"Uncle Ethan is always making such a big drama of nothing, isn't he?" Tickling the baby's tummy, she gazed up with her gorgeously rich chocolate orbs, listening intently and soothed by the echoes of a familiar voice. He snatched the milk from him and positioned it with accuracy next to the plate.

"You have got me to be more careful, Cal! What if that glass had toppled over your daughter hmm?" It was still frustrating how little responsibility and conscious he had for minor hazards to the baby they now shared their home with.

The subject was dropped when Cal displayed no interest of listening, and Dr Hardy's perplexity replaced the anger, "Anyway, why exactly have you just put mince pies, milk and carrots on our mantle piece?"

He could understand the mince pies and the milk - both elements often contributed as an evening treat during December. But the carrots? Cal loathed carrots, and he personally certainly wasn't taking up rabbit food for supper.

"Like I said before, Matilda's leaving supper because santa clause is coming to town."

Ethan shook his head, exhaling a sharp sigh, "Matilda is far too young to understand and appreciate what is happening. I have never seen you so excited over Christmas, not in years."

"I just want Matilda's first Christmas to be special."

The living room was decked with seasonal decorations. A real fir tree was garnished with luscious golds and ruby reds, a velvety glow of yellow radiated from the lights, trimmed with lustrous tinsel. Ornaments for the occasion were dotted about. There was a warming scent of real pine from the tree. Stockings suspended from the mantle piece.

Caleb Knight had never previously had such excitement for Christmas, failing to decorate more than a miniature artificial tree that sat abandoned in the corner with messy baubles and tinsel just chucked on top. He was more interested in getting paralytically drunk and pulling girls.

"And it will be, but at least save some of this for when she's older and will understand. You need some plans for how to make Christmas different and special for future years."


	9. Secret Santa

_**A/N:** mixture of characters in the ficlet, and a little bit of Connie/Jacob for those shippers! Thanks for reading!_

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 **Advent Calendar**

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9\. Secret Santa

"Take a name for secret santa," The porter frequently jolted the cardboard box that had been coated with festive wrapping paper, shuffling the tabs of folded paper with the steady motion. He padded round the ED, repeatedly requesting for participating members to remove a name.

Max paused by the nurses station, impatience escalating as people buzzed past, completing their jobs, "Come on, Big Mac! Staring at them isn't going to tell you who's is who!"

Big Mac was taking forever to choose, studying each little note-let intently, unlike who's colleagues who had simply dipping their hand in and retrieved a name at random. "Uh..okay, this one."

Opening out the creased paper, his smile upturned to a dismayed frown as he read the name. _Connie Beauchamp_. But he promptly curled the paper back up and dropped it into the tub, grasping another which contained a much friendlier name scrawled in blue ink, "I got my own name." He clarified, hastily scarpering away before more questions could be asked.

Max's intentions had been to adopt the final remaining name in the container, anticipating that the name he really didn't want for secret santa would be gone. It was the name that nobody desired. But he was wrong. That was the very name left. He flopped onto the chair, burying his face into the palms of his hands with a mutter, "I knew I should have chosen first."

The contributing members of staff clustered around the nurses station, a central point in the emergency department. Doctors, nurses, and porters. All clutching their wrapped secret santa gifts. Excitement combined with apprehension to learn the contents of their gifts and who they were from.

"Who's going to start, then? Best waste as little time as possible, we've all got important roles to play." Iain scanned each individual, noting that some were more tense than others, some incredibly relaxed and chilled. Connie was edgily tapping her feet, persistently glancing at the designer watch that adorned her delicate wrist.

The diverse variety in shapes and sizes was intriguing, present wrapping skills also ranging. Some gifts were impeccably wrapped with precision and care while others were plainly scruffy and the effort and lack of practice and talent evident.

"I'll go first!" Zoe twitched her shoulders in the approximation of a shrug, stepping forward with her present - a small rectangular carton lined with red and silver paper, complete with a matching bow. "I got Dr Knight."

Cal accepted the box, thanking the consultant gratefully with a cordial smile. Though his grin soon faded as he tore away the paper to reveal the item, "A watch..."

"Since you appear to have an affliction with time keeping, I thought that this would be a perfect idea. Perhaps you may actually be on time for your shift now," Dr Hanna added with a slight smirk, prompting some giggles from the others and a snigger from the clinical lead.

It was then the doctor's turn to disclose who he was secret santa for next, "I got Max."

The porter also obtained a similar shaped box before, "Cigarettes!" His grin was infectious, "Cheers mate,"

"Dr Knight!" The sophisticated consultant exclaimed, scowling with pure abhorrence, "You most certainly should not be encouraging Mr Walker's bad habits, especially as a doctor, in emergency medicine. You know fully the implications that smoking causes and have treated the consequences first hand."

Max shoved the packet of cigarettes into his pocket swiftly, hoping that the absence of the health impacting component would improve his boss's irritancy. That and the distraction of the detail she he was her secret santa.

The box was larger this time, resembling the size and look of a shabbily wrapped shoe box. It was a shoe box. Connie removed the lid to expose a pair of red soled shoes, mimicking those of her trademark stilettos. But they definitely were not her favourite brand; Louboutins. Instead, they were a cheap, tacky and equally fake replica. Yet they accompanied a humorous smile to her glossy lips, highlighting her freckles and natural beauty. "Very original, Max. Thank you. Though I wouldn't expect to see me actually wearing them."

"I selected Nurse Masters." The brunette admitted sincerely, passing the package to the individual. It was spongey and flimsy. A contrast to the rigid structures of prior parcels.

Jacob admired the delicate and detailed skills of Mrs Beauchamp's gift wrapping, tentatively slicing away the crisp paper with his finger at one end. "A vest?" Puzzlement etched his features as he exhaled a laugh when he read the print on front stating 'Mr Muscles'.

"Well, you always appear to wear a long sleeved shirt beneath your nursing uniform. Even in the summer months of record breaking temperatures. So I figured you must be sensitive to the cold and a vest will keep you warm." Her arms were folded elegantly across her chest, posture straight and tidy. The words floated from her mouth breathlessly, laced with a smart honesty that was almost teasing.

"I wouldn't be cold if you were always present." The remark was instant, quick and fiery.

She was rapid to retort, smirking contently, "I'll just have to go with my other logical reasoning then. Your muscles aren't up to scratch for you to be confident enough to display them, therefore you already have another use for the garment, Muscles."

"I got our favourite clinical nurse manager." Jacob revealed and handed over his gift for the young blonde.

Rita unwrapped a tastefully arranged container of bath bombs. A mixture of fruity and floral, with loose dried petals dropped around. "Thank you Jacob, very thoughtful." She nodded happily, Iain commenting that it was only really him that was allowed to purchase such items for his girlfriend, though it was in good spirit.

"Dixie." She grinned, azure orbs glittering, "This one's for you, darling."

It was a set containing speciality coffees and hot chocolates with syrup flavourings - perfect for the chilly winter nights that had arrived with December. The paramedic thanked her fellow blonde with a hug, "It's your turn next, Robyn."

The ginger-haired nurse squealed with pleasure as she peeled away the paper, freeing the contents which were a pair of novelty slippers. Gigantic fuzzy slippers that were designed to look like piglets, in a shimmering pink. "I love them, thank you so much Dix!" Despite the health and safety hazard, she insisted on switching her practical trainers for the cute slippers.

"I got Lily!" Robyn beamed, her cheeks flushed a rosy pink as she shuffled across to the doctor and handed over a peculiar shaped present.

Dr Chao opened the gift, revealing a sleek black stethoscope with white writing that printed her name in a pretty cursive scrawl. "It's lovely, Robyn. Thank you." The new stethoscope was swapped with her older one, suspending it neatly around her neck.

"This is for Dr Hanna," Lily presented an oblong box that wasn't wrapped, just finished off with the addition of a gold bow. It was a pen. "Since you are always looking for a pen, I concluded that this would be perfect."

Ethan had purchased Iain a travel mug due to the fact nearly every time he made a brew and settled to enjoy the beverage he was called out on a shout and forced to neglect his drink in favour for his demanding job.

The paramedic was secret santa for Big Mac who's gift was handed over in an envelope. Lottery tickets and scratch cards. He was incredibly chuffed, after his tumbling gambling habits had pressured him to change his ways. This was definitely a treat, that hopefully would be equipped with a lucky reward.

Big Mac gave Lofty a novelty magic kit, who then passed Dylan a present that was aimed for his delightful pet rather than the consultant himself.

"Thank you, Lofty, that was extremely thoughtful and appreciated. Dervla will definitely enjoy these treats and I'm sure she will like the collar as well." Primarily, he was incredibly reluctant to participate in the festive nonsense. But now, he was happy that he had joined.

Finally, Dylan gave Ethan a book based upon emergency medicine. The young doctor was forever striving to improve his knowledge, yearning to be the very best doctor he could be.


	10. Reindeers

_**A/N:** thank you for the reviews! Number 10 is a Freechamp one shot :)_

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 **Advent Calendar**

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10\. Reindeers

Natural light cascaded smoothly through the generous panes of glass, streaming effortlessly in elegant waves. Sunshine rays of the early winter morning radiated into the spacious room, adding a glossy dazzle as the clinical lead pinned back the velvety curtains.

"Connie!" Rita griped and protested blearily, plunging her face into the feather pillow and vigorously tugged the silk laden duvet over her head. "Too bright, shut the curtains."

Tassels of sticky up blonde bed hair that poked above the covers graced a delicate smile to the older woman's lips, the sparkle to her fresh orbs and dainty freckles enhanced by the positive twitch. "I bought coffee. And paracetamol."

The mention of coffee tempted her to peek her head out from the blankets partially, squinting hopefully while inhaling deeply for the rich scent of her favourite, rustic coffee beans. She loved coffee with passion; and Connie Beauchamp generated luxurious mugs of coffee, the very best.

"Mmmm that is so _so_ good!" She breathed out with adoration as the hot liquid trickled down her throat to her stomach, the steam rising and tickling her nostrils.

Connie smiled tenderly, shifting the covers and settling back in the bed with her own mug of coffee, enveloped in her satin robe and her oceans of thick curls restrained loosely at the nape of her neck.

"Now you are awake, Miss Freeman." Perfectly manicured fingertips tapped lightly against the china cup she clasped, "Would you care to enlighten me on why there is a life size stuffed reindeer toy in our front room, please?"

In her freshly roused state of a relaxing Sunday morning off work, the huge reindeer figure was the last thing she anticipated perceiving when she padded down the stairs. Parked in the centre of their living room, ever so proudly. The brunette had blinked repeatedly, ensuring that she wasn't hallucinating. It was very much real.

A groaned hovered from the nurse's lips, hands stroking her pounding head tentatively, "I can explain...well, kind of." The events of last night were a relative blur, "Just do me a favour, yeah? Never let me go out clubbing with Dixie, Robyn and Zoe again. _Ever_."

How the group had acquired the reindeer into their possession remained a mystery. It had happened during their intoxicated antics when they had emerged from a club in the city centre. The reindeer had simply been attained on the journey home, after combining way too many alcohols from differing families. Where the stuffed toy was even from was an obscurity.

"The reason it ended up here, at our home, however," Rita paused momentarily, shuffling and clearing her throat, "was because I was the first to arrive home, and consequently because that reindeer is so much heavier than it looks, we abandoned it here, rather than struggle any further with it."

The consultant shook her head in dismay, though couldn't prevent suppressing a spirited laugh. Subsequently to recovering to the initial shock, it was rather amusing. "If you hadn't secured it in the first place, then you wouldn't of had to labour at all." She stated matter-of-factly.

Their lips brushed together, so fond and affectionate. A suit that never failed to create a bubbling fuzzy sensation roaring to life inside them both; impulses of fiery electricity potent enough to ignite a flame.

"Seriously, Rita.." She chewed the edge of her lip, battling away another flurry of giggles, "During my many years in the ED, I've heard of people attaining traffic cones and police signs...but never a reindeer."

The apples of the younger female's cheeks flushed a rosy pink, posture sinking beneath the duvet and sheets again. "Well, what can I say.." Her arm extended and grasped the foil packet of tablets that had been deposited on the bed side table, popping two pills into her hand.

Connie reached for the television controls, "All I ask is that you decipher where that statue came from and please do return it. It has the most disturbing glass eyes that just seem to follow your every move." A shudder, followed by her clicking the power button.

"Yeah, yeah, I will. But first, I need more sleep." The paracetamols were dropped after she swallowed her dose, and she settled to return to her slumber. And sleep away her awful hangover.

Connie flicked through the channels, searching for a programme to tune in on. But she concluded on the news, in the end.

The blonde's eyes had fluttered closed, attempts to drift asleep evident, though her ears remained pricked, listening to the background hum of the television. Her orbs suddenly snapped open. First just one eye, then both. Dark glistening chocolate etched with naked alarm and equally terror. " _Shit_."

 **'Holby Christmas Market's famous mascot was unfortunately stolen last night. A life size reindeer toy that marked the entrance of the market proudly. Police are appealing for witnesses or for anyone to come forward if they know anything. Please help us locate Ricky the Reindeer and return him safely to his profound position.'**

The brunette's opaque orbs expanded significantly. That very missing reindeer mascot was currently decorating her front room. "Rita!" She hissed, "You never said that you stole it from the Christmas Market entrance. We - _you_ \- are going to return the stolen property right now."

"Please come with me, Con! What if they arrest me!"

She reluctantly agreed to accompany her partner. Together, they hauled the gigantic reindeer toy back to the festive market. Sheepishly apologising to the owners and explaining how it had been an irrational, drunken action that would not happen again.

"You are most definitely correct that I am never allowing you out clubbing without me. Ever again." Her voice was low and raspy, hissed with exasperation to match her red complexion and crossed arms, "I have never been so humiliated. Apologising for someone else's absurd responsibility!"

But the younger female had more pressing issues. "Oh my god! Connie! Help!" Frightened squeals from Rita pierced the atmosphere, "The reindeer's eating me!"

Today, a group of real life reindeers were visiting Holby. And one of them had been selected to stand at the entrance of the market, temporarily replacing the mascot. The animal had sneakily snaffled the nurse's scarf that trailed over her back, innocently chewing on the fabric.


	11. Angel

_**A/N:** again, thanks for the reviews! This one is about Dixie and is really short as it was one of the first things I wrote when trying to get back into writing. But still, I hope you like it :) _

_I have no idea how I think of a new idea for each day xD I still have 8 days left to write and need to think of 6 ideas! And there will be plenty of Freechamp to come ;-) I'm trying to write for a variety of characters though it's not exactly working.. xD should have done a Freechamp advent calendar tbh haha!_

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 **Advent Calendar**

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11\. Angel

"Angel or star?"

Dixie and Big Mac gazed intently at the artificial tree that had just assembled in the ambulance station staff room. Sparkly baubles glittered with festive colours, tinsel twinkling in shades of ruby red, luxurious gold and bubbling violet. The diverse selection of fairy lights spiralled around the tree, colourful patterns whirling proudly.

The only object missing was what belonged on top of the tree. The finishing touch. An angel. Or a star.

"What would Jeff choose?" The blonde exhaled a tender sigh, orbs smouldering with sadness at the mention of their lost friend. Trying to reminiscence the prime charisma of decorating the tree from previous years.

She missed him; every minute of every single day. A generous chip of her heart had shattered into unsalvageable dust, a nugget that would never heal. Jeff Collier was her best friend. Her husband. Her lifeline. They had battled and successfully conquered so much, supporting each other to the very end.

Big Mac shifted to flick the switch on the kettle, congregating elements contributing towards a brew. "I don't know, Dix."

For years - like a stuck tradition - the golden star used to deck the fake tree. Without hesitation.

"You know, I thought it would get easier with time, but it doesn't. I don't want to think about another Christmas without our Jeffrey..burning the Christmas dinner to cinders and setting off the smoke alarm. Ready meals for two was kind of beginning to be a thing." Her lips twitched at the corners at the fond memories as she flopped onto the fabric couch, "He was a shit cook."

The paramedic gratefully accepted the steamy mug, clasping her fingers tightly around the pottery. The chat persisted, gentle laughs as they recalled more loved memories of their favourite Jeff.

"I think I'll put the angel on top this year. Not because I want to enforce change and forget how things were; I'd never want to start fresh. But because our Jeff was a hero, he died saving lives, doing what he did best. And for that, I know he's an angel up in the sky, watching over us all. He will always be with us in spirit."

Dixie expressed her thoughts and conclusions verbally subsequently to much consideration. She swallowed a mouthful of tea and deposited the mug on the wooden table, "Probably laughing right now at how petty and stupid we are creating such a drama of what to put on top of the tree."

"We'll always remember him, Dix, his memories will live on."

He rolled his eyes as she blatantly disregarded health and safety as she precariously hopped onto a chair, wobbling haphazardly while balancing the elegant angel on top of the tree.

"There we go. Perfect."

"Well, I've got to love and leave you, I'm afraid." The disappointment edged his tone, glancing at his watch to check the time, "That's my break over, best get back to it."

Dixie collected the mugs of partially consumed coffee and pondered across to the sink, twisting the hot tap on and beginning to rinse the china cups. Until she was interrupted by the hearty cacophony of her ringtone reverberating the peaceful ambience.

 _The adoption agency._

Her heart fluttered and skipped a beat. Could this be the impending phone call she anticipated? Zealously, yet with hints of anxiety and tensions, she answered her phone.

"Yes, yes this is Kathleen Dixon...No, no. This is a fine time to chat, I'm not busy...Really?!...Of course, I'll be there as soon as I can, I'm on my phone."

A delighted, infectious grin had adopted her features as she ecstatically jumped around the staffroom of the ambulance station. There was a fervent bounce in her steps as she dashed to her locker to retrieve her civilian attire and possessions.

They had a two and a half year old tot perfect for her to adopt. A beautiful baby girl named _Angel_.


	12. Baubles

_**A/N:** as requested, this is Connie and Jacob (ft Grace), but it's as near to a one shot about them as I have right now. I will try to write one purely on them but I'm one of the few people who doesn't really ship them *hides* _

_thank you for reading and reviewing, always very much appreciated. We are half way through now! x_

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 **Advent Calander**

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12\. Baubles

"Grace?!" Connie paused in her steps, the click of her trademark red soled shoes halting abruptly. Squinting momentarily, a scowl of perplexity and irritancy adopted her feature when she identified the young girl hastily scurrying through the chaotic department to be her daughter.

"What are you doing here?" Sincerity and assertion edged her question, perfectly manicured fingertips clasped on the girl's shoulders, attempting to steer her through the clusters of people and to her office before noticed.

"I was expelled-" The mini brunette responded nonchalantly, the regularity of the situation becoming increasingly - and concerningly - frequent.

The clinical lead parted her lips, ready to articulate a stern reprimanding, but while she cleared her throat, she was interrupted.

"Ah! So you must be the famous Miss Beauchamp!" Jacob had perceived the arrival of Grace and refused to miss the chance to finally meet this fiery yet unique nine year old, "Nice to meet you." His jubilant manner simply caused the girl to raise her shaped eyebrows - a perfected copy of the gesture her mother habited on a daily basis.

"Who are you?" Blunt and rude, she swivelled her dark orbs to look the nurse up and down, eying him suspiciously.

"Jacob Masters." He beamed proudly, "Your mother's boyfr-"

Connie instantly cut in, "He's no one. Just a friend." Her glare was ominous, "Gracie, please go wait in my office. I'll be along shortly."

"He's your boyfriend?!" The words were spat bitterly, screeched from her lungs and created gasps and murmurs as other nurses and doctors spun round to watch the commotion.

"Now, Grace. Please."

Grace was already scampering away, darting through the obstacles in her path following her latest discovery. Raging anger saturated her petite frame, fists clenched while she ran.

Connie's cheeks flushed a rosy red, burning harshly compared to her pale complexion. The staring eyes prickled her back like cutting thorns. But she maintained composure, pirouetting sharply with a barked order, "Get back to work! The show's over!" She hissed with venom.

The staff scurried back to their patients and attended to duties, leaving Jacob and the clinical lead standing awkwardly in the centre of the ED.

"Sorry...I thought you were going to tell her?"

"I am!" She argued defensively, subconsciously twirling a glossy curl of chestnut coloured hair around her fingers, murmuring, "I just haven't found the right time." The subject was dismissed with a jerk of her shoulders in the approximation of a shrug.

Nurse Masters nodded, biting back all he had to say regarding the topic, "You should take the rest of the day off and go home with Grace. The ED is no place for a hyperactive nine year old. She needs your full attention and supervision."

The brunette rolled her eyes with a scoff, "I can't." She muttered, "We are incredibly short staffed, there is an influx of casualties and resources are stretched to the absolute limit! It would be irresponsible of me to leave. Grace will be fine waiting in my office until my shift ends-"

"Mrs Beauchamp!" The distressed tone of Robyn's high pitched voice captured her attention, "We need you in resus right now! It's an emergency!"

"I'll be right there." She nodded in acknowledgement, inhaling a deep breath and straightening her stethoscope that suspended around her neck. Her heels collided harshly with the tacky floor, strutting towards the mechanised doors for her next medical challenge.

Jacob sighed and marched towards the office, shutting the door behind him. Someone needs to keep an eye on the young girl and ensure she stayed out of mischief.

"Go away!" Grace yelled spitefully, arms enveloped around her knees as she rocked tentatively in the curled up position, "I hate you!" She barely was able to spend much time with her mother as it was due to her demanding job, so the idea of having to share that precious time with somebody else too was exasperating.

"Well, let's see if we can change that then." He flopped onto her leather swivel chair with his arms folded across his muscular chest.

"Your mum is having a really hard day, so why don't you - _we_ \- do something nice for her. Like...I don't know...decorate her office nicely with Christmas decorations since she's too busy to do it herself?"

The youngest Beauchamp contemplated fleetingly before hesitantly nodding, "I guess so...it'll give me something to do otherwise I'll be bored." She shrugged.

"Good girl," Jacob grinned and began to remove the miniature artificial tree from it's box and assemble it on her desk, "Why don't you see what decorations are in the box?"

Grace started emptying the contents of the cardboard box, choosing her favourite pieces of sparkling tinsel in purple, red, gold and blue. She located the star to deck the very top, and pulled out a large cylinder containing a vast number of glittery baubles.

"Jacob, we need your help." Louise poked her head round the door, "We've got a patient who's refusing to be treated by anyone but a male."

"Can't Lofty help instead?"

She shook her head, "Lofty's busy and you're the only male nurse free. So please?"

With a sigh, Nurse Masters agreed, "I'll be back as soon as I can, Grace. I can't wait to see how far you get with decorating the tree! Behave." And with that, he followed Louise to the patient.

The tree was up and the fairy lights had been twirled around the fake branches and pine leaves. Grace groaned in frustration as she couldn't get into the contents that she could see so visibly because a generous quantity of sticky tape had been added at the end of last year's festive season to seal the baubles securely.

Equipped with the crate of sparkling decorations, she departed the office and went in search of a tool to aid her in gaining entry, or someone more skilful to help. Wandering through cubicles allowed her to steal a set of surgical scissors from a trolley and she perched in the corner, beginning to snip away at the tape.

Grinning contently, Grace jumped to her feet snd clutched the cylinder of baubles after successfully freeing the lid. She skipped off in the direction of the office, leaving the scissors, excess sticky tape and the cut up lid abandoned on the floor. But during her journey back to the office, she crashed into someone much taller and bigger than herself, resulting in her dropping the box.

The baubles gushed out the pot promptly, rolling in various directions and gaining momentum as they spilled out everywhere. There was sparkly spheres everywhere. The girl simply made a rapid retreat for safety, making no effort to fix her mess.

In correspondence, Connie and Jacob emerged from their separate areas where they had been treating patients, simultaneously groaning at the mayhem that had unfolded as people haphazardly dodged the baubles and slipped in all directions. Before a warning could be issued, poor Lofty tumbled on the baubles, plummeting to the floor.

In union, the consultant and nurse shouted, "Grace!"


	13. Star

_**A/N:** thank you for the reviews :) this one is Rita and Iain. Sorry I'm late posting today, been finishing off Christmas shopping and thrn got distracted by my wonderful horses :') (who are now very angry with me bc their dinner is late as I accidentally locked my keys and phone in the tackroom and am awaiting the arrival of the spare keys, oops .) _

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**Advent Calendar**

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13\. Star

The chilly wind swirled around, flurries of bitter air whirling in an energised twister. Rita shuddered beneath the thick coat and woollen tartan scarf of Iain's she was nestled in the midst of, her unblemished cheeks flushed a rosy red from the cold. She ambled at a leisurely place, following the path ahead towards the bay.

It was dark, the final traces of natural sunlight had been immersed by velvety black. Artificial light generated a tacky yellow glow. Moonlight gushed from the skies that twinkled with bright stars. Remaining leaves twirled off the near naked branches that swayed in the breeze, whistling between the dense branches. Crisp leaves crunched below her delicate steps.

Seven weeks previously was exactly where she was now. Her first official date with the flirtatious paramedic she had located her soul mate within. They had strolled this very trail through the luscious park, arms enveloped around each other while they stumbled drunkly and giggled uncontrollably. They hadcreated so many cordial memories to last a life time, interlaced in their beating hearts.

 _'"Iaaaaaain, give me the beeer." The petite blonde demands, words slurred and giggles intoxicated as she tried to seize the bottle of alcohol from the older bloke who persistently moved it out of her reach._

 _Iain was slightly more sober, "Nooo, I think you've had more than enough." She pouted sulkily whilst he swallowed another mouthful._

 _"Spoilsport." Lower lip trembling, she huffed dramatically and folded her arms across her chest moodily, tilting her head back to stare at the sparkling stars, "Loooook!" A zealous exclaim, "Those star combinations look like batman and that one a dinosaur! They're fighting!" She pointed a finger in the vague direction._

 _He shifted his gaze to the pitch black sky that was alive due to the moon and stars, brow puckered as he squinted perplexedly, "What? Reets, I don't see anything!"_

 _The clinical nurse manager appeared to disregard his response and skilfully snatched the beer from his hands, allowing the beverage to trickle down her throat like water. "It's right there! How can't you see it?" Again, she gestured._

 _"Nu uh." A shake of the head._

 _"Who do you think would win a fight between a dinosaur and batman?" Though her tone was garbled, there was still a serious edge, rich orbs toasty with curiosity and her head tilted to one side as she contemplated the answer._

 _"What kind of questions that?" Iain scratched his head,_ _puzzled._

 _Her shoulders jerked in the approximation of a shrug and she switched subjects, "I soooo think Jacob is secretly seeing Mrs Beauchamp! I mean, have you seen the mood she's in recently? She's so placid and no longer grumpy. Definitely getting some of_ that _if you ask me."_

 _The paramedic laughed humorously at her drunken babble, "Nah, they aren't the couple of gossip in the ED."_

 _"Who is then?"_

 _"I don't know? Ethan and Alicia? Charlie and Noel?!" He shrugged cluelessly as Rita exploded with laughter yet again.'_

Now she propped herself against the icy metal railings of the bay, staring into the sky trying to decipher the star pattern that she had believed to be batman and a dinosaur. But this time she was alone. Just with the company of haunting memories. She would never get to relive that moment with her companion again.

Because he was dead. Her Iain Dean had lost his life tragically in a freak accident during a shout.

Aged thirty-four, a son, brother, boyfriend, loyal friend, hero, respected paramedic...and a father to be.

Rita was pregnant with his baby, conceived the night of their primary date. But she never got the opportunity to tell him the news. She had intended to the evening of the day he died, bubbling with fluttering butterflies in her tummy and anticipation. It would have been the start of their future. Together.

She had cried hysterically when Dixie informed her, wishing and pleading to believe that it was just some horrendous nightmare that would end soon. Rita Freeman had finally discovered the truthful meaning of happiness and it was snatched from her in a flash. Her heart cracked, shattering into shards.

Salty teardrops leaked from her vacant eyes, rolling down her cheeks to the tips of her lips. Pure droplets combined with jet black mascara. The nurse was drawn to one star in particular, shining much brighter than any other. _Her Iain_. He was there in spirit, watching over her of every second of each day. Desiring her to locate the great strength she would need to move on from this, silently nudging her in a positive direction and preventing her from flying backwards in a turmoil.


	14. Stockings

**_A/N:_** _once again a big thanks to those who reviewed :D today's ficlet is another Freechamp chapter! Inspired by a prompt from otpprompts tumblr. And yes, I have written another Rita and Iain one shot where they are much happier ;-)_

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 **Advent Calendar**

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14\. Stockings

"Merry Christmas, darling."

The room was hazily illuminated by the delicate glow of the bedside lamp, darkness still immersing the town in a thick envelope. Rita's silky lips fondly brushed against the brunette's, words murmured in a whisper when she stirred slightly from her slumber.

"Mm, Reets what time is it?" Connie's dark orbs fleetingly fluttered before remaining gracefully closed, lips responding to the lustful sparks prompted by the kiss. Impulses that made her heart skip a beat. Or two, or three.

The nurse peered at the clock momentarily, "Just gone six." She was grinning zealously, startlingly wide awake for the early hour. Bubbling with passionate pleasure and exhilaration saturating her veins.

An abundant grumble floated from her lips, dark eyes flickering with the twinkle of a hostile glare. Her partner was fidgeting immensely, little irritating shuffles. "You are even worse than Grace on Christmas morning. Even she sleeps until at least seven."

Casted dark shadows from the low light concealed the detail that Rita's cheeks blushed; the dusky ambience simply creating the vague outlines of silhouettes. "Sorry..I'm just excited." That was an understatement, "It's our first proper Christmas together, you know, like living together and waking up next to each other."

"I just want to give you your presents too." The blonde added, shifting marginally so she could gather the two festive stockings that were hung on each corner of the foot of the bed, full with wrapped presents, complete with curly ribbons.

Connie was gradually beginning to rouse properly, propping herself up on her elbows and shaking her tousled curls from her face, cascading wildly about her shoulders. She tapped her own lamp on, flooding the room with extra light that allowed the figurations to flourish into beautiful details.

Her enthusiasm was thriving, yet hinted with anticipation as she propelled the first gift from the stocking into the clinical lead's hands. A relatively small square box coated in golden paper adorned with white snowflakes.

The consultant ripped the crisp paper with care, removing the box in which she established to be a jewellery case. One of an exquisite - and equally expensive - jewellers.

A surprised, yet delighted, gasp, "Rita! It's absolutely gorgeous, thank you so much." She ardently kissed her lover with joy.

The velvety box contained a matching necklace and earring set. Delicately crafted white gold, enhanced with a spectacular green stone. Precious, polished emeralds. So sparkly and dainty. Emeralds were her favourite crystal; the birthstone of her daughter. Rita had purchased the set in hope of her wearing it on a daily basis, as a token that Grace was always with her.

A designer scarf, fluffy socks, mug and silk blouse were just a few of the other presents in the brimming stocking.

But now it was the nurse's turn to open the gifts that ladened the bright red stocking. The first present she chose was a peculiar shape. She extracted the item to be a can opener. A puzzled laugh was suppressed, "Con? Why have you bought me an electric can opener?!"

Connie's freckles were more prominent as the warm smile etched her features, "I have perceived how haphazardly you operate our current can opener. Which is quite a regular occurrence due to your lack of ability to cook. I am merely reflecting on your safety - as my profession is a consultant in emergency is to advice and prevent injuries where possible. So that is what I am enforcing."

The younger woman arced her perfectly shaped eyebrow, "Really? Are you sure that you are not also just using this as an excuse because last time _you_ used the can opener, you broke your nail?" A smirk sketched her lips lightly.

She adopted a shocked expression before pursing her lips together, "No, no. No. Absolutely not. It is most certainly beneficial to your health, and that is all."

Rita wasn't convinced but shrugged her shoulders dismissively, continuing to open her stocking of presents. The next object revealed was a tin. Shiny silver and blank, with no indication to the contents. Connie implored for her to test the new can opener. And she did, removing the can lid to expose a glistening ring with a polished amethyst proudly displayed.

Her bambi like orbs fluttered with naked nerves, staring intently at her partner, "Connie? Is this for real?"

The usual confident manner of the other female had faded, replaced with a bundle of uncharacteristic apprehension. She nodded meekly, clearing her throat and raking her hand through her hair subconsciously, "Rita Freeman...will you do the honour of becoming my wife?"


	15. Mince Pies

_**A/N:** thank you for reading and reviewing! This one shot is the longest of the advent calendar series, and probably one of my favourites! Zoe and Grace are the main characters, ft Connie and Max as well! I really hope you enjoy it! 10 days until Christmas :-)_

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 **Advent Calendar**

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15\. Mince Pies

Grace studied the assortment of ingredients and equipment that was neatly aligned across the polished counter and island of the kitchen. All prepared to contribute to a batch of delicious mince pies.

"Zoe?" Innocence and curiosity laced the young girl's tone as she put on and tied up her little apron, "Have you ever made mince pies before?"

"Uh, well no, not exactly..." The consultant's shoulders twitched in the approximation of a shrug, fingertips fiddling to tie a bow behind her back with the apron strings, "But I've watched them being made loads of times, it'll be fine!" She appeared much more confident than she secretly was feeling.

It was a tradition in the Beauchamp household to bake mince pies at the start of December; Connie and Grace adored the festive pastries and loved cooking them together at home on one of the clinical lead's rare days off. But the brunette had been called into work because of an emergency, therefore contacting Dr Hanna to supervise her daughter in her absence as the nanny was ill. Not wishing to disappoint, Zoe had hesitantly agreed to help make the mince pies with Grace instead.

What could possibly go wrong? It was just fifty mince pies.

"Do you know what we have to do first, before we even start touching the ingredients?" Zoe queried as she flicked through the vague instructions and ingredient quantities, mentally multiplying the figures to generate a larger group.

The mini brunette nodded simply, "Wash our hands."

They thoroughly washed their hands with the expensive antibacterial soap that had been poured into a fancy, stone dispenser to match the immaculate kitchen. A mixing bowl, electric scales and wooden spoon extracted to the front from the masses of implements, they were ready to begin. Until Zoe realised something was missing. A viral element.

"We haven't got any mince! How can we make mince pies without the mince!" With a spontaneous thought, she grasped her mobile phone and telephoned her boyfriend, requesting him to urgently pop to the shop and deliver the mince.

Impending the arrival essential component, Zoe and Grace began chatting idly.

The girl's face dropped, clogs whirling in her brain as though she had suddenly had an important thought, "Fifty mince pies won't be enough!" An exclamation of horror.

"What? Why?!" Dr Hanna's orbs had expanded significantly, perplexed at the impulsive outburst, "Fifty mince pies is a lot of mince pies."

"We won't have any to give to Santa Clause! And he can't be forgotten because if he's hungry he won't deliver anyone's presents!" Fear edged her manner while she asserted the facts in a statement.

"Can't you leave him one of these fifty?"

A swift shake of the head and sincere expression followed with a blunt response, "Santa Clause needs more than one mince pie. He needs at least..." She paused as she contemplated a rational number, "three! And by the time Mummy, Daddy, Grandma, Uncle Charlie and me have eaten them all the way up to Christmas Eve, there will be none left! We need an extra three!"

"Okay, okay!" Zoe raised her hands in defence, "We shall bake fifty-three mince pies then."

The conversation was paused by the chiming of the doorbell. Regaining her balance from the kitchen stool, her heels clattered as she rushed to open the door. But she was only to be greeted by her very own problematic dismay, "Max, you have got to be joking!"

"What?"

She groaned, massaging her aching temples with her middle finger. The porter proudly presented a pack of mince. "That's frozen mince _meat_. We need the spiced mince that comes in a jar! You know, the type that goes in _mince_ pies."

"You mean they don't put this kind of mince meat in them?" Max was shellshocked at his newly learnt detail, "My twenty-seven years of life have been a lie!"

"It'll be easier if I go get it myself." The emergency medicine doctor concluded aloud, shaking her head in consternation, "Just keep an eye on Grace, I won't be long." Her apron was already being exchanged for her winter coat, shouting out final instructions as she dashed across the luxury driveway, "Don't cause any trouble!"

Max shuffled into the kitchen, immersed with dread that he had been abandoned to watch his boss's daughter, who had gained a reputation for being mischievously unruly. Even at the meek age of seven. "So then, Grace..."

"Can we start making the pastry? We don't need mince for that." She fluttered her long, curly lashes sweetly, already sensing his reluctance, "You do know how to make pastry, right?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course I do! It's a piece of cake!" His response came instantly, smooth and chilled. Always stay in control, never show weakness. He was poised that the girl would know how anyway.

"Good, because I don't!"

The pottery dish had been assembled on the scales, and before the porter could object - still sussing the situation - Grace had energetically grasped the giant bag of fluffy flour and jerked it zealously over the bowl. A flour bomb practically exploded as the compact flour separated from the bottom of the sack, saturating them and the entire kitchen in a coating of white dust. Fortunately, the packet's contents were low and minimal.

Coughing and spluttering, the girl wiped at her eyes with the back of her hands, giggling uncontrollably, "Oops!"

She was completely white, excluding the skin toned rings around her eyes where she had rubbed away the flour. The milled product was settling, like a light blanket of snow.

Max cleared his throat, wafting the dust away with the back of his hand and muttering, "Zoe is going to kill me..."

"So will Mummy if she finds out. She likes her kitchen to be spotless and hates there being any mess. They'll blame you anyway when I tell them, because you're supposed to be the responsible adult." Switching the radio on, she hummed along to the seasonal tunes while Max searched for a dust pan and brush.

Now it was his turn to be clever, and as he swept the flour, he tried to bargain, "What will it take for you to stay quiet? Chocolate? Fizzy pop?"

Grace pondered for a moment, scrutinising the offer and nodded to the compromise - with her own editions, of course, "Chocolate and fizzy pop _and_ sweets _and_ cake."

The male concurred with a muted grunt. That girl sure knew how to haggle with assertion. With the flour cleared up, they measured out the correct weight in a more controlled manner with a spoon, followed by the butter and sugar. Max stuck the wooden spoon in the bowl and began to stir, only to be scolded by the girl once again.

"We're supposed to use our fingertips to blend the ingredients, not a spoon!" She stated matter-of-factly, one thing she had once been told sticking, "Mummy says by using our fingertips we make much smoother pastry!"

"Of course, how could I forgot.."

Thankfully, Zoe soon arrived back at the Beauchamp home, equipped with the appropriate kind of mince. The porter no longer had to entertain the little girl. And the consultant was amazed at how calm and controlled all was; she's been expecting to return to chaos.

"You've made a great start!" She beamed as she paced into the kitchen, depositing her purchase amongst the other foods and utensils. Her boyfriend was prompt to scarper, nearly tripping over his own feet in his hurry to the door.

The brunette divided the mince meat into half, dropping it into detached bowls, "Now, Gracie. Can you tell me where Mummy keeps her spirits?" Subsequently to peering into every kitchen cupboard, the alcohol hadn't been located. And the recipe evidently specified brandy to be added for the grown up mince pies.

"Mummy says I'm not allowed in there, it's for grown ups only."

"And she's right," A meek nod, "But I'm a grown up, so she'd let me in there, wouldn't she?"

Grace deliberated again and nodded intently, declaring the place that accommodated the drink and spirits.

The remainder of the mince pie making appeared to pass without a hiccup, the delicate little pasties popped into the oven on a tray to bake. The essence of winter spices potently toasted the ambience, the mince pies baking to a scrumptious gold in the scorching temperatures.

They were stacked across three racks by the time Connie arrived home, cooling contently ready to eat. It had just left enough time for Zoe to clean and tidy to the kitchen back to it's pristine state. The dish cloth wiping across the counter for a final time as the front door clicked up, removing trace of a floury little hand print of Grace's when they had sprinkled some about to roll the pastry out onto.

"These smell gorgeous," The aroma had tickled the clinical lead's nostrils, stalking towards the mince pies for a closer inspection. Enticingly golden and warm. She elected one from the edge and tentatively bit into the buttery pastry.

The other doctor was suspended with apprehension while awaiting a verdict on her first ever batch of mince pies.

"There very tasty," Her pearly-white teeth were displayed in an impressed smile, tongue licking the excess sugar that dusted the top from her lips, "Even better than my own. What did you do differently? Perhaps you should come and make them every year."

A grin infected Zoe, a wave of relief washing over her. "I just followed the recipe. But I have a confession, I don't _actually_ like mince pies. Hence why I have never made them before."

Grace scampered into the kitchen, her long wavy hair cascading behind her like chocolate silk, and she greeted her mother with a hug, "Mummy can I go home with Zoe for a bit? Max owes me sweets, chocolate, cake and fizzy pop!"


	16. Turkey

_**A/N:** totally forgot about posting today's one shot earlier, so here it is! It's another Dylan/Lofty one, ft Dervla. I have 4 one shots left to go and am starting to run out of steam and ideas xD also, someone asked if I'd write a Sam/Tom one a while back? (I can't remeber who you are off the top of my head but will go look) I have nearly finished one and will post soon! Thanks for the reviews. Xx_

* * *

 **Advent Calander**

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16\. Turkey

"Where an earth have you been?" Dylan's arms were folded stiffly across his chest, gaze rather ominous and stern as he impatiently awaited an explanation. "It's nearly half past nine and I've been worried, so has Dervla."

The nurse glanced momentarily at the dog that was curled in her bed, positioned by the flames of the roaring log burner, dark eyes wide and starring at his arrival.

"Or more to the point, what an earth is _that?_ Ben?" He was still scowling, a perplexed expression adopting his features at the entrance of a gigantic item concealed by a draping cloth that Lofty had hauled into the boat behind him, with immense effort.

"It's one of your Christmas presents! Well, more of a present for the boat...which is also yours." The curly-haired male was grinning proudly, passionate about the new decorative element he had purchased as an addition for their boat.

He trailed the fabric away to expose the gift, "What do you think?!"

A giant statue of a turkey was revealed. Wearing a santa hat. The consultant's eyes expanded dramatically, lips parting significantly as though he couldn't quite believe what he was looking at. It was colourfully hideous. And he was completely speechless, gawping in astonishment.

"Lofty..." Dr Keogh started apprehensively, pausing awkwardly, "It's very thoughtful...but you shouldn't have. You really shouldn't have. We can't keep it. It shall be returned on Boxing Day." His attempts to be fair and pleasant about the present had failed; the effort of sympathy had been attacked by solemn bluntness.

Nurse Chiltern's face fell, forlorn and dismay etching his expression. Deep, sad eyes. "Why? Don't you like it?"

"Yes, yes I do. Of course I do?" He responded instantly, trying to improve the negative ambience that had abruptly immersed. Wanting to redeem himself and prevent further hurting of feelings.

"Then why can't we keep it?"

"Look the santa hat even comes on and off to highlight the festive season!" Lofty demonstrated as he spoke, removing the red hat that was lined with white fur, then depositing back onto the turkey's head. Twice. It fell off the first time.

"Because..." Dylan scanned the open planned boat desperately, desiring for some rational reasoning to appear, "because it'll scare Dervla! Look, she doesn't like it! Therefore it can't stay." He was proud of his justification. Though it was a shame that his canine wasn't quite reading from the same line.

The pet had regained her equilibrium, stretching her legs as she padded tentatively towards the turkey sculpture, stopping at a safe distance to evaluate the whole thing. She then suspiciously paced a full circumference.

The younger male objected, "She's not...she's just..checking it out."

He huffed drearily, stepping away from the statue in hope that from a distance the turkey would spontaneously gain some more appeal. But it didn't. "Well..." He was thinking again, of another excuse, "It doesn't match the decor!"

 _~Boxing Day~_

"Come on, Dervla, there's a good girl..." The doctor vigilant approached his much loved dog. Slow and steady. Determined to stamp his authority; that he was not frightened by her threatening growls and barks.

"We need the turkey statue. It has to go back to the shop. Surely you understand that? Yes, I thought so." The one-sided conversation persisted, cautious steps growing ever nearer.

"Dervla! That is _not_ friendly!"

Dylan retreated backwards with a leap subsequently to capturing a glimpse of the canine's teeth, the growling escalating in pitch. Even the delicious meaty treats that were her favourite were having absolutely no effect.

"You cannot be serious. Dervla, you can't actually like that monstrosity that is taking up a partial amount of our living space!"

His exasperation was accumulating when the curly haired nurse emerged ready to accompany the consultant in returning the turkey sculpture, complete with santa hat.

"Are we ready?"

"No. Not quite. We have a technical problem." Dylan's hands now graced his hips grumpily, "Dervla has become rather attached to that turkey piece. She is guarding it with her life."

Lips twitching into a slight - content and gratified - smirk, Lofty grinned with delight. "Does that mean it can stay?!"

A reluctant, grudging nod followed and a huff, "Well yes. It would seem that way. Dervla clearly has her mind set firmly."


	17. Fireplace

_**A/N:** thank you so much for the reviews! This one is another Zoe/Max one and tomorrow's will be Tom/Sam! Xx_

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 **Advent Calander**

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17\. Fireplace

The fountain pen was propped effortlessly between her manicured thumb and index finger, skilfully balanced on her elegant middle finger, the thick ink gliding from the tip into her smooth, fluent scrawl. Reverberating the relaxed ambience was the hum of a soap broadcasting from the television, the crisp scratch of the point of the pen colliding with the paper still apparent.

"How much longer, Zo?" Max padded through from the kitchen, clutching a dish brimming with salted popcorn. It was Thursday evening; movie night in their household.

"I'm nearly finished." The consultant blew out a breath, free hand raking through her dark, sleek locks. Her paperwork was stacked in a mountain pile, imploring to be completed. Hours had passed and she was still scribbling away at reports, battling through the cramping sensation of her finger muscles that begged her to stop.

A smile adopted his features, "We're watching Elf tonight."

"How magical." Her chocolaty orbs sparkled as she tilted her head upwards briefly, pearly-white teeth displayed in a blissful beam. There was something delightfully heavenly about snuggling up with her husband on their couch, beneath blankets, watching a film and munching popcorn.

Zoe clicked the lid over the end of her fountain pen and dropped it onto the table with a satisfying clank, stretching her fingers repeatedly, "Before we settle to watch the movie, I need a well earned cigarette."

Regaining her equilibrium, she paced towards her handbag and retrieved the packet of cigarettes and a lighter before heading for the door. It felt so good to extend her legs subsequently to being perched in the same position for so long.

The porter accompanied his wife in the doorway, admiring the winter wonderland scene had unrolled outside with the arrival of a thick blanket of snow and houses decorated with tons of brightly coloured lights and festive outlines.

Striking at the lighter persistently, she finally produced a flickering flame, and ignited the tip of her cigarette and then Max's. Arms entwined, they savoured the peace and tranquility of joy that came with the build up to Christmas. Until everything suddenly went black.

The red, blue and green strident lights had faded into pitch black in a split second. All the glows of artificial light perceivable through the windows of the row of terraced properties disappeared in a domino effect. The entire street was in immersed in the velvety arms of complete darkness.

Max exhaled a groan, stubbing his cigarette out, "A power cut. Great."

The married couple retreated haphazardly back into their front room, tentatively feeling for objects that loomed in the dark. Several minutes passed, and there appeared to be no indication of the power returning. The younger male grasped his phone from his pocket and began searching for information regarding the power cut.

"They don't expect to resume normal power services until the morning!"

That was ages away. Zoe grumbled in dismay, arms enveloped around herself. The temperatures had plummeted below the freezing mark and the heat was rapidly evaporating from the house. Within a few hours they would be icicles.

"I think we should light the fire, that way at least we'll have some warmth." The female doctor's sensible instincts had kicked in, pondering over what else they should do. Using the luminous screen of her mobile to guide her, she ambled into the kitchen to locate a candle and lit it with her lighter, carrying it back to Max.

"Do you want to light the fire while I go find some blankets. It'll probably be warmer for us to stay down here tonight." She suggested, carefully depositing the flickering candle on the fireplace.

Max nodded gruffly, lighting a fire with daylight was a tricky enough challenge, now he was going to have to attempt it with just a candle and torch. The doctor returned downstairs, minus her trademark heels, her feet treading lightly against the polished wooden surface, and she was equipped with several thick, fluffy blankets and a couple of pillows.

He had assembled a pile of logs in the crate of the fire, added some firelighters and was now trying to alight the match, though his attempts at sharp strikes were failing.

"Here." Zoe offered her lighter in the palm of her hand, kneeling down next to her husband. It was a much easier alternative, though a box of matches was never a miss in case of an emergency if the lighters were vacant of fuel.

He grinned, the positive curl etching his features just visible in the dusky shadows. And soon enough, the fire roared to life, spitting and cracking as the flames attacked the logs violently.

Together, they shifted the couch nearer to the fireplace and snuggled up beneath the blankets with the pillows and started to eat the salted popcorn from earlier.


	18. Decorations

_**A/N:** It's a week until Christmas! I'm actually really beginning to feel the festive spirit now :')_

 _this one is Tom/Sam. It's really awful, though, and I'm sorry but my ideas are really fizzling out now :( I will motivate myself to complete the final 2 one shots so I can finish this advent calendar this year!_

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 **Advent Calendar**

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18\. Decorations

The shelves were stacked with festive decorations, garnished with detailed displays that had been constructed especially. Oceans of baubles glittered in an array of colours, shapes and sizes; the prickled effect tinsel twinkled in traditional shades. Diverse lights sparkled on the artificial trees, visually exhibiting the products in hope of luring people in to purchase.

Today, Sam and Tom were shopping for an assortment of decorations to deck out their new home with, ahead of their very first Christmas living together.

The male doctor was clueless as where to start - he loathed shopping at the best of times, let a lone when the shops were crammed with bargain hunters, "So, I guess we should pick a colour scheme first..."

"White, silver and blue!" Sam was swift to respond with her thoughts, shifting towards the decorations in that colour.

A frown etched Tom's lips, "Really? I was thinking more gold and red." His disappointment was evident, preferring the more traditional colours in contrast to the more newer introduced ideas.

She pouted, "But that's so boring. These colours just add to the entire feeling of a winter wonderland, in our very own front room. Except it is much warmer and cosier. Plus it fits our colour scheme much better."

"Our colour scheme is neutral." The male pointed out matter-of-factly, "Therefore red and gold will match perfectly fine."

"No."

"Yes."

No."

"Yes."

"Fine." The auburn haired woman huffed, folding her arms across her chest moodily, "We can have the red and gold decorations..providing I get to choose the tree." It was a compromise, a reasonable compromise. And probably the only way they would settle their differences.

Tom grinned ecstatically, nodding in concurrence, "Deal."

They purchased the decorations and deposited them in the boot of the car, before heading towards the section that was aligned with real fir trees. It had been decided previously that they would buy a real Christmas tree; the proposal of the natural, rich scent of pine flooding the home was blissful.

Circling around the rows of fir trees, all eagerly awaiting for new homes, they pushed through the vast clusters of people and inspected each tree closely. Only the tree deemed perfect would be coming home with them.

"What about this one?" Tom suggested, gesturing to a huge fir tree that was adorned with thick branches, dense with dark green needles. It was about the size they had anticipated, well filled out at the bottom with a gradual triangular shape forming it's posture.

The consultant shook her head, "Nope,"

It was a great tree, but not what she had in mind.

"Now this is way better." She halted in front of another tree. A virtually naked tree, the majority of the fern green needles had tumbled to the floor from the scarce branches, "This is the tree we are going to have." She concluded aloud.

"But-"

"No buts." Sam waved a pointed finger, reinforcing her assertion that he was not going to successfully change her mind, "We had an agreement, you choose the decorations and I decide on the tree."

"It's awful though," The consultant whined, "I mean seriously, look at it. There are much nicer trees available."

"Yeah? And I like to pick the tree that nobody else is going to want. Just think, this poor tree will be the only one left here on Christmas day because no one will buy it. I like to make this, perhaps tatty, tree look and feel special. It will look amazing, trust me, Tom." Her thick eyelashes fluttered as she justified her selection.

"Fine." He reluctantly agreed with a meek nod, "We had a deal, and I'n not a man to back down on that. We can have this tree."

Their tree was embellished with bright red and shiny gold baubles, enveloped in trimmings of shimmering tinsel, multicoloured lights scattered and flashing in a chasing pattern. Complete with a dainty star on top that had been positioned by Sam when Tom elevated her into the air. Both their unique choices combined had created a flawless tree, much better than either had anticipated. In fact, it was the best decorated tree they had ever perceived.


	19. Sleigh Ride

_**A/N:** thank you again for reading and reviewing! The trailer did give me an idea but I've already used mistletoe unfortunately :( hoping that tonight's episode will give me some inspiration for my very last one shot! The Rita and Iain one will be posted on Monday or Wednesday I think ;) but Rita is back in tomorrow's one shot :-) this one is another Connie/Jacob! Just six day to goooo!_

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 **Advent Calendar**

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19\. Sleigh Ride

"You cannot demand that I simply just drop everything to board a flight to destination you are choosing not to disclose." Connie's arms were folded firmly across her chest, trademark heels enhancing her petite height and clicking rhythmically against the linoleum floor where she tapped her toe. Her voice was solemn, expression ominously blunt.

The nurse frowned wistfully, persuasive instincts kicking in as he blocked her path so they could continue the conversation, the consultant frustratedly clutching a pile of patient files to her chest, "Aw come on Queen B-"

It's Mrs Beauch-"

"Mrs Beauchamp, I know." He cut in, correcting himself mockingly. She loathed mixing her personal life with her professional career, and refused to tolerate the nicknames in a work environment. "It's all booked, I thought it would make a nice surprise for you. We can't let it all go to waste..."

"Nurse Masters, I have work to do, as you can see the ED is even more hectic than usual today." Her brunette curls cascaded effortlessly at her shoulders when she shook her head slightly, her stubborn demeanour refusing to subside.

Jacob wasn't about to give in though, still persisting with his reservations, "Just say you'll come and I'll leave you in peace. And return to my job."

A defeated sigh exhaled from her glossy lips, long and steady, followed by pursed lips, "What time is the flight?" There was a sparkle to her words, requesting the important information patiently.

His features revived with a grin, "Does that mean you'll come? We have to be through checkouts by half past six, with the flight taking off for half past eight."

"I'll be there." Connie meekly nodded in acknowledgement, dodging around the human obstacle and strutting away with a sharp click of her stilettos to resume treating patients. However, the location of their trip still remained a mystery, and her mind whirled curiously.

* * *

The wispy flurries of glacial air twirled freely around the couple as they emerged from the cosy aeroplane, descending the metal-framed stairs. The clinical lead tugged at her quilted coat, huddling it further around her slim frame and nestled her chin into her abundant scarf. Their destination was pretty obvious now.

Bitter winds. Arctic temperatures. Copious layers of thick snow blanketed the frozen grounds. Tall fir trees with their branches arced and groaning beneath the weight of the snow adorned the background.

She had dreamt of spending Christmas somewhere hot and sunny, strolling leisurely down the beach with millions of tiny grains of golden sands between their toes, dipping in the pure transparent waves of shimmering, turquoise waters. Sipping cocktails and sunbathing.

But it was a contrasting opposite. They were in Lapland.

"Lapland, how sophisticated." Connie's breath was a frosted white as it blew out from her lips into a misty cloud before her. "There was me thinking you had chosen a luxury holiday for two in the Caribbean."

The nurse chuckled, "I could have done...but this is much more relatable to our tradition Christmas in our climate."

They retrieved their luggage and located the pre-booked taxi that would escort them to their hotel. Though the hotel would be the next surprise for Connie.

The older woman's chocolate orbs expanded dramatically, blinking repeatedly in initial shock as she perceived the building - or perhaps structure was more accurate - before them. It was colossal with neat, dainty details carved into it, pointy spires soaring high into the sky.

"It's entirely sculpted from ice!" She exclaimed in astonishment, stuck for words after that. But the apprehension hovered densely over them, enveloped.

"Yep," confirmation, "It's a hotel constructed from ice; the finest ice hotel in the world - I wouldn't want anything less for you my Queen B. Every ice queen needs her own palace."

His cheeky grin diminished when greeted by an ominous stare. "Just because certain people have named me an ice queen does not mean you had to take it literally. It'll be absolutely freezing in there!"

She was already frozen, desiring a hot steamy shower to remove the chill from her bones and to settle on a luxury bed in snug pyjamas. Drinking a glass of mulled wine in front of a hissing and spitting fire.

"There's a baking hot natural spring outside that'll be sure to warm us up. Or one that is icily cold, if you prefer. Whatever takes your fancy. And they provide quilted sleeping bags that keep you extra toasty. There have been no complaints from anyone saying they were too cold!" Her reluctance didn't put him off, he was still beaming cheerfully.

She scoffed with abhorrence, "Where are they from? The north pole?"

"You'll see for yourself in a while." His shoulders twitched in a shrug, "But first, we're going on a sleigh ride! Time to swap those red-soled shoes for some snow boots and prepare to hold on for the time of your life.

A pack of ten huskies, all exceptionally fluffy and adapted to their climate, in shades of whites, blacks, greys and browns. They were harnessed in an orderly fashion, a spacious wooden sleigh connected at the back. The pair settled on the spare, Connie gripping the handles as Jacob stood behind her, arms interlaced securely around her waist.

"Get ready for the time of your life sweet cheeks!"

And with that they were off. The huskies dashed on command, feet pumping with extraordinary power and they pulled the sleigh down a wildly fast track. Connie's silky curls danced in the wind, adrenaline squeals combined with merry laughter.


	20. Christmas Sweater

_**A/N:** thank you so much for reading and reviewing! This one is Freechamp and just a random idea I had! Hope you like it Xx_

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 **Advent Calendar**

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20\. Christmas Sweater

"Rita! No! Get out! Go away, please!" Connie screeched sharply, words jumbled together in high pitched ramble from the top of her lungs, hastily grasping away the contents in front of her and attempting to hide them before her wife perceived certain objects.

"Wha-?" Puzzlement etched her unblemished features, the item in her hands dropped onto the side of the polished island counter, a dark graphite that dazzled so proudly you could see your own reflection.

"I'm going!" She whirled around in an agile pirouette and scurried out of the kitchen, retreating into the hallway. "I'm gone!" Though she could not physically set eyes on the older female, her hands were still held up in defence.

The clinical lead collected the components she desired to remain secret from her lover. Wrapping paper, sticky tape, scissors, and the actual presents. She concealed them in a safe and secure location, "You can come back in now." Her position was resumed at the counter that was fixated to the back wall of the modern kitchen.

Rita padded back into the same room as her wife, the socks that coated her feet squeaking marginally against the tiled floor with every step, "What were you doing? I thought you were making tea!"

"I was, I _am_." The brunette retorted whilst slicing a carrot that she had just peeled, adding the chunks into the saucepan that simmered delicately on the hob.

It was just pure beauty observing the older woman. Those trademark heels with the red-soles added to her natural poise and elegant posture. Her long gorgeous legs were emphasised in the classy black tailored trousers, paired with a white silk blouse that just flowed so gracefully over her flawless curves and arcs. The oceans of chocolate locks cascading in a river of soft curls about her shoulders. Connie was breathtaking, completing a most basic chore, and the younger female gazed in awe. This magnificent woman was actually _hers_.

"But maybe, just perhaps, I got deflected from the task in hand and elected to wrap your gifts for Christmas." Her shoulders raised in the approximation of a shrug, voice innocent yet enchanting.

"Anyway, what is _that_?" Connie tilted her head sideways, neatly depositing the vegetable knife on the heavy, wooden board and paused from where she had been chopping and dicing ingredients that contributed to the meal she was preparing. Her curiosity tempted, fascination edging her question. Abundance of curls spiralling to one side with the motion.

"A parcel." The blonde had perched on the stool nearest the element she had entered equipped with before, "From my parents." She studied the writing on the edge of the package, reading aloud.

She began tentatively chipping away the tape that had generously sealed the box, eventually removing two presents that were clad in festive paper, labelled to each of them with instructions to open before Christmas day.

The consultant stepped over to the island, scrutinisingly what lay on the surface. Inquisitiveness was thick in the air, and they both began tearing away the paper to reveal the mystery items.

Rita just ripped at the wrapping paper, messy and rapid actions, while the other female was more appreciative of the effort and love that had gone into sealing the gift, peeling away at one end so she could slide out the object.

Her dark orbs expanded with shear horror; huge and alarmed. The instance she witnessed the garment in her dainty hands, with a note stuck on top, she knew. "Oh god. No. Please let this be something else." An ominous mutter as she splayed out the item of clothing.

It was a Christmas sweater. A handmade, knitted jumper. Made by Rita's mother. The note attached requested them to wear the garments on Christmas day when they went round to her parents to share the festive feast.

Connie scrunched her nose up, rather disdainfully. The woollen material was spread across the counter, shades of bold blues, bright reds and crisp greens all combined together. The jumpers matched; well that had been the intentions, the patterning had gone a bit wrong on one. And both sweaters were copious and plentiful, far too big for the women they were designed for.

"It's huge!"

"I know!" The nurse groaned, tugging her festive sweater over her head, her arms invisible in the sleeves that were floppy at the ends due to being excessively long and it fell to just above her knees. "She must think we're giants or something. There's enough room for the both of us in just one!"

"There is no way I am wearing that. I'm sorry, Rita, but I refuse." Her voice was solemn and assertive, arms folded across her chest, "You never warned me that your mother was fond of knitting!"

"I didn't think it was relevant! This is _so_ embarrassing!" Rita exclaimed, burying her face into the extra sleeves of the knitted sweater.


	21. Tradition

_**A/N:** as usual, a big thanks to those who reviewed! I'd finished writing this series of one shots by the time I saw the review about a Dixie/Jess/Olivia one, sorry :( the only idea I had would have contained spoilers and I'm reluctant to post stuff like that incase I've interpreted something to be totally wrong! Look out in the future though, I may write something about them once I've seen the storyline pan out a bit more! _

_This one is Rita and Iain - somewhat happier than the previous one ;) though I'm not convinced our favourite clinical nurse manager is impressed!_

 _It's four days until Christmaaaaas!_

* * *

 **Advent Calendar**

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21\. Tradition

"Where are we going, Iain?" Rita's gorgeous brown eyes were naked with imploring curiosity resembling those of a sweet puppy dog, thick eyelashes fluttering, though her voice was asserted with frustration as she persistently quizzed where they were going.

It had been dark when they departed Holby. The narrow polluted streets afire with flickering street lamps, houses remaining in darkness at the early hour. Straight urban roads had been switched for those in a rural landscape, twisty and snaky in the open countryside. Arrays of warming oranges, bold yellows and fiery reds patterned the sky in the sun rise, dusky shadows swallowed away by the return of daylight.

"I'm not telling yo-"

"Aargh!" The petite blonde hissed through gritted teeth, "Iain!" She had been stroking her eyelashes with jet black mascara when the vehicle had collided with another bump in the meandering lane, causing the wand to streak across her cheek.

He glanced across at his fiancée, perceiving what had prompted her irritation, before fixating back on the vacant road ahead, "Sorry!" Though his apology wasn't very convincing, "I told you not to bother wearing make-up."

"Yeah? And I told you that I wasn't going out in public without it. I need to hide how little sleep I had last night." Her retort followed a huff, wiping away the substance that contrasted harshly with her fair complexion, then dabbing to even her foundation application again.

The paramedic grinned cheekily, "Yeah, that may have been something to do with me."

She rolled her twinkling orbs, "I totally get why Dixie always drives the ambulance now." The wand precariously brushed her lashes, wriggling right from the base of her curly eyelashes to the very tips, lips parted in intense concentration.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Iain's eyes narrowed scrutinisingly, perplexity edging his words, "What's Dixie been saying?"

Rita tapped her nose with her index finger, "Never you mind, that's between Dix and me. All I'm gonna say, darlin', is that this is the last time you are driving my car. She'll never recover after hitting all these potholes, let alone her poor poor gearbox with your should we say lack of correct gear changes."

"It's not _that_ bad," He argued defensively, before cranking the gear leaver with a ear splitting crunch, "Okay, maybe it _is_."

"Exactly." A chuckle hovered from her freshly glossed lips, attention reclaimed, that had momentarily been diverted, to the most pressing subject. "Now, seriously, Iain. Where are we going?"

Iain shook his head dismissively, "For the last time, I'm not telling you, Reets. You'll find out soon enough."

The remainder of the journey was basked in a comfortable silence until the male pulled into a parking space, twisting the key in the ignition so the subtle roar of the engine faded into silence, "We're here!"

The nurse unclicked her seatbelt that rapidly retreated home, studying her surroundings for a moment. A blanket of browns and thorns generated from pebbles of all different shapes and sizes, the crashes of deep blue waves against the sodden rocks. "The beach?! Iain, it's December!"

"I know, but it's just beautiful." Opening the car door allowed ripples of offshore wind to spontaneously whirl into the car while he stepped out, inhaling a long, strong breath. The salty air was so fresh, so clean, so pure.

She had to nod in agreement, nothing was quite so spectacular and breathtaking as the natural beauty of nature. Except Iain perhaps, he was pretty flawless. "Mmm, it's cold though." The car door slammed shut and she enveloped her arms around herself, trying to maintain and secure what little heat she had.

They shifted down the slippery concrete steps, descending onto the shingle beach that showered with satisfying crunches beneath their feet. "So why are we here today then?" The couple were one of the only few on the vast stretch of shoreline, accompanied by the odd dog walkers and winter bird watchers.

Iain interlaced his fingers with the woman he couldn't wait to call his wife next year, smiling as fond memories spiralled in his mind, "Well, a family tradition of the Dean's is that each December of every year, before Christmas day, we take a trip to the beach and we take a dip in the sea...done it every year I can remember, it's sort of a family tradition that's been in the Dean's for generations. And I wanted to share it with you today."

The clinical nurse manager arced her defined eyebrow, shuddering increasing just at the thought. The sea would be icily cold at this time of year for sure. "That has literally confirmed that you _are_ crazy, Iain Dean. Thank god I'm still a Freeman." A smirk graced her features, smug that she didn't have to participate.

"We'll be married next year, though." He reminded gently, "So it'll be good practice for you to join me this year." If Rita wanted to be smart, then he would simply have to copy her talents.

"Practice?!" She exclaimed sharply, dissolving into laughter, "Iain, that is hardly something that requires practice. There is absolutely no skill or art needed. I'll skip this year thanks." She folded her arms, her stubbornness dominant.

"Aw come on, Reets! Don't be a spoil sport!"

"Nope." A blunt refusal, "There will be a high risk of hyperthermia if either of us enter that glacial water. And as I work in an ED, I've seen the effects first hand; it isn't pretty. Therefore, I should be encouraging avoiding of a potential situation before it occurs." Her nurse instincts had kicked in.

"Yes, there is that possibility. But my entire family, and me, have been completely fine for generation with no harm done." Iain pointed out matter-of-factly, "I have bought towels and dry clothes for us both as well as plenty of hot chocolate. Providing we warm up quick, we'll be fine. There's shower blocks with hot water over there." He gestured towards a block of shaley buildings.

Her attempts to escape this impending torture were failing and she struggled to think of any more justifications. "Salt water will be bad for my hair!" It was pathetic, and she knew it, fingers raking through her fringe subconsciously.

"We'll see about that!" Rita didn't even have time to protest as Iain whipped her off her feet sharply and sprinted towards the tide that washed powerfully up the beach, depositing sediment in the process, ignoring his lover's shouts and squeals.

The paramedic gracefully lowered the blonde back to her feet, millimetres away from the gushing waves. She was temporarily paralysed with fear, screeching in shear terror when the chilly water collided with her toes. But she couldn't run away and retreat as her fiancé gave a tender push and she stumbled into the wintry waves.

"Iain!"

The initial coldness stole her breath while she scrambled to her feet and recovered, "You are so going to regret that." Expletives followed as the sensation of realisation set in and she tugged the male's leg, sending him tumbling into the sea as well.


	22. Hot Cider

_**A/N:** posting this early today as I have a busy day! This is really quite random, inspired by looking up Xmas words and playing festive music! It's Connie/Zoe. Thank you for reviewing and reading! _

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**Advent Calender**

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22\. Hot Cider

Zoe roused slightly from her deep slumber, shuffling as she stirred while trying to free her arms from the tangle of sheets and bedding. Her head was pounding, pulsating even more when her eyes fluttered open to capture the contrasting strike of sunlight gushing through the marginal gap where the curtains joined. Hand flying to her forehead, she desperately massaged the thumping sensation in attempt to relieve the acute ache.

She blinked repeatedly, squinting and groaning until she could finally tolerate the natural light, adapting away from the darkness of siestas. It was only then did she begin to concentrate on her surroundings; unfamiliar settings. This was not her own bed and evidently therefore not her own bedroom. And she was alone.

It was far too tidy and organised; her personal bedroom was quite the opposite, clothes strewn into piles, odd shoes lonely and abandoned across the floor. The linen sheets were of tremendous quality, thick and silky - egyptian cotton she guessed. In crisp, snow white, with a fresh fragrance.

Raking a hand through her tousled locks, the puzzlement refused to subside as she failed to recall where she actually was. She couldn't really remember much from last night, though her headache and grim feeling informed her she was now hungover. That was correct; she had attended the ED Christmas party. But after that, it was a mystery daze.

Propped up by her elbows, her frustration escalated because the alcohol had erased her memories. Lying here was not going to answer her mountain of questions. So she was just going to have to leap into the peril and emerge from this room, facing whoever the property owner was, she figured.

The consultant hauled herself from the cosy bed, slipping her party attire back over her curves. She glanced towards her stilettos - perhaps those weren't such a great idea right now, her head was fuzzy and the room had spun for a couple of moments when she regained her equilibrium. No, they definitely were not a sensible idea.

She needed coffee and paracetamol, and that was what she desired to search for. The brass handle of the door was bitterly cold compared to her clammy palm. Materialising from the bedroom, the doctor promptly noted that she was inside a generous sized house. The landing of the first floor was spacious, decked out with a polished oak floor and cream walls. A spiralling staircase ascended to the second floor, while another set of narrow stairs descended to the ground floor.

Zoe studied everything for a moment, looking for a hint of who owned this divine home. Sparklingly clean and clutter free, a neutral classy decor. And then she spotted a pair of heels neatly positioned at the bottom of the spiral stairs. A shimmering black with red soles. Louboutins.

Her breath hitched in the back of her throat, oxygen stolen from her lungs. How had she ended up staying the night at Connie Beauchamp's? She was sure she had arrived at the party with the company of Rita and Robyn. Inhaling a few long deep breaths, she mentally prepared herself and began stepping down the stairs. She was positive that their delightful clinical lead would be more than content to enlighten her to events.

"Good morning!"

The brunette was fresh and alive, showered but was still in her silk pyjamas and a matching dressing gown was enveloped snuggly around her frame, towel dried locks ruffled into a loose bun.

"There's coffee on the side, and paracetamol. Help yourself." Fleetingly, the clinical lead tilted her head upwards, glittering orbs diverting from the screen of her laptop to study the fellow consultant, then reabsorbing herself intently with the report.

"Thanks."

Nodding meekly, Zoe ambled towards the counter where her boss had gestured, a coffee cafetière, mug, spoon, and bowl containing perfect sugar granules neatly aligned on the glossy surface. She drizzled the dark beverage into the mug provided, stirring in a couple of sugars. The aroma of coffee beans tickled her nostrils, so rich and rustic, combined with the sweet scent of vanilla from a burning candle.

Equipped with a strong coffee, two tablets popped out of the foil packet and swallowed, she joined Connie at the breakfast bar, perching on a stool in the middle. It was a rather awkward silence, broken by the occasional tap of a keyboard letter.

"What did I drink last night? My head kills." Zoe stifled a slightly embarrassed chuckle.

The other woman arced her flawlessly arched eyebrow, "You mean you don't know?"

Her cheeks had flushed a rosy pink, tousled hair falling about her face when she shook her head, "Uhm..no. I don't recall a lot, in all honesty."

Connie pursed her lips together momentarily, "Well, I'm not surprised. But I highly recommend you are more conscious to your alcohol consumption levels in future. You devoured hot cider mainly - and rather a large quantity - and various shots, I believe."

"Hot cider? I don't even like hot cider." She scrunched her nose up.

"Mm, a certain Dr Knight challenged you to a drink off, with you obtusely accepting, and that was the chosen beverage." She clicked save and closed her laptop, cupping her hands around her lukewarm coffee, attention focusing on her colleague lightly.

Zoe groaned disdainfully, suddenly understanding this horrendous hangover, "How much did I drink?"

"Enough. You were absolutely wasted. Do you not recall any of your drunken antics from last night?"

She shook her head again, "No..please tell me I didn't do anything too embarrassing?!"

The brunette's shoulders twitched into a shrug, "That all depends on what you consider as embarrassing."

"What did I do?!" Her twinkling brown orbs widen dramatically, paralysed with fear. She pleaded that it wasn't going to be anything too awful, yet she was terrified for the worse. She had probably made a complete fool out of herself.

"In your drunken state, you started singing karaoke to me. You chose the song 'All I Want For Christmas Is You' by Mariah Carey. You became obsessed with me, complimenting me on my make up and amazed at the soft touch of my hair. In front of the entire ED. It was highly entertaining."

A smirk danced on Connie's natural lips, Zoe groaning and concealing her bright red cheeks with the palms of her hands. "Oh my god, I am never ever going to live this down!"

The consultant continued to explain, "You wouldn't leave me alone, even after everyone else had left. I couldn't leave you in such an intoxicated way alone, hence why you have woken up in my spare room."


	23. Jingle Bells

_**A/N:** so this is the penultimate one shot. It's gone so quickly and I can't quite believe I will have actually managed to complete this come tomorrow! Again, thanks for the reviews. This one is Rita/Dixie ft Iain. Though you could easily read it as Rita/Isin ft Dixie if you preferred :) I just chose Rixie bc I've written less one shots about them! 2 days until Xmas!_

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 **Advent Calendar**

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23\. Jingle Bells

" _Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way, oh what fun it is to ride in a one horse open sleigh!_ " Iain chanted along with potent passion to the harmony carol of Christmas, swaying and waving his arms in beat to the music.

His fellow paramedic groaned irritably, harshly crunching the gear stick down into a lower gear as she slowed the ambulance to pull over into a lay-by, "Iain!" _Clank_. She hit the stop button on the radio, leaving just his out of tune singing.

"Hey!" Melancholy eyes glanced towards the blonde, "I was enjoying that!" He pressed the radio back on, resuming where the lyrics had halted and continued his outrageous solo to jingle bells.

Dixie knocked the song off again, with another satisfying whack. "Yeah, well I'm not! Give the ears a break, your singing is absolutely awful, mate! Not to mention that this is the eleventh time you've had that wretched carol on repeat!"

"It's a great song!" He argued defensively, huffing as he folded his arms grumpily.

"Let's try a different song." The older female skipped on a couple of tracks and pressed play. But much to her abhorrence, Iain began screeching Silent Night at the top of his lungs. The same occurred with every festive song she played. And with a disdainful grunt, she switched the radio off again. "Is there any song you don't know the lyrics to?!"

"Nope." A smug grin, "I love Christmas! Do you know how many years it's taken me to perfect all this?"

Dixie scoffed cynically, elevating her takeaway coffee cup from the holder and swallowing a generous sip, "Evidently not enough."

The other paramedic's joyful singing was halted abruptly, music muted as he accepted an impending shout on the radio systems. "3006 attending. Over and out." His colleague had already shifted the vehicle into gear and prepared to safely rejoin traffic on the road.

"What have we got?"

"A pregnant woman in distress. 105 Leavington Way." Iain recited the vague information he had been narrated from the call room, clicking his seatbelt in securely.

The ambulance screeched to a sudden stop, for no apparent reason. The blonde's orbs widened dramatically, lips parting in shock. "That's my address! And the pregnant woman in distress must be Rita!" Flicking the sirens on, she stamped on the accelerator, "Don't you even think of putting jingle bells back on, or I swear to god Iain..."

* * *

"Reets! Rita, darling! Are you okay?!" Dixie had vaulted from the ambulance and rushed up the gravel path to their front door, whirling through the door in a daze of haste and panic, searching for her wife.

The other paramedic collected the emergency content they always entered a shout with, following a few minutes later and navigated his way through the terraced house to locate his colleagues and the nurse.

The married couple were in the open planned kitchen. Rita clutched the polished counter with her hands, knuckles white from where her grip was so clenched, doubled over and using the surface to prop herself up. Her breathing was heavy and jagged, beads of sweat rolling down her forehead, her fringe sticky, as she impatiently waited for the contraction to pass. The older woman simply rubbed tentative circles on her wife's aching lower back, in moral support.

"He's too...early." The clinical nurse manager blew out an agitated breath, moving her hand to stroke her large baby bump, trying to soothe the infant that wriggled in somersaults internally.

"That's nothing to worry about!" Iain was also trying to add reassurance, "Your due date is only, what, ten days away? The baby will be fully formed and all organs developed. It's not unusual for first babies to make an early appearance."

Dixie concealed her fear impeccably, her flappy and flustered behaviour replaced with a cool composure the moment she learnt that the only issue was that the younger female was in labour. They had prepared for this moment for ages; this was the beginning of the end of their strenuous emotional journey to become parents. But now it was actually here, it was rather surreal.

"Her waters have broken and the contractions are about seven minutes apart." She concluded, doctor mode kicking in as she grasped the holdall they had already prepared for the day their baby was ready to meet them.

As Rita's features relaxed, previous to being scrunched up as another wave of intense agony immersed her stomach, it indicated that they had a couple of minutes to slowly move to the ambulance, ready for the trip to the hospital.

"There we go," Dixie settled her wife on the unappealing trolley, handing her some of the gas pain relief they carried on board, the nurse gratefully accepting and sucked in some deep breaths immediately. "You okay to drive, Iain?"

"Sure!" The male had already guessed, jumping into the drivers seat he started the engine and began driving speedily towards the hospital.

"Iain, can you pull over, mate, please!" She requested a short while later, noting that Rita's discomfort was escalating and the contractions had rapidly drawn in closeness. "She's progressing _very_ quickly! I don't think we're going to make it to the hospital!"

Rita gasped again, the influx of pain that repeatedly absorbed her frame still surprised her each time, "Dix.." She fumbled clumsily for her wife's hand, breaths raspy and shallow, "I can feel the head...he's coming...now!"

Within ten tense minutes, the strident cries from lungs, that were far too small to produce such a piercing sound, filled the emergency vehicle. They had delivered a healthy little boy, who was now wrapped snuggly in a fleecy blanket from the ambulance stock, and rested on Rita's chest, the other woman fussing over the child also.

"Congratulations!" Iain beamed from the front, "Right, next stop, Holby City hospital! And I think now is a perfectly acceptable time to resume the music. Jingle Bells is pretty apt, isn't it? You know, they used to ring bells at the birth of a baby!"

He hit play again and began chanting along to the words of his favourite Christmas song, " _Dashing through the snow, in a one horse open sleigh, over the fields we go, laughing all the way. Bells on bobtail ring, making spirits bright, what fun it is to laugh and sing, a sleighing song tonight!_ "


	24. Mulled Wine

_**A/N:** ITS CHRISTMAS EVEEEE! And this is the final one shot, and my personal favourite. Freechamp are off to taste and make mulled wine! the idea is inspired from another show, not sure if many people in this fandom will have watched though, but if you know me then you'll know ;-) a big thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed this advent calendar. I can't believe Christmas Day is nearly here! Have a merry christmas and happy new year one and all! Maybe I'll be back with a story in the new year if inspiration strikes! _

_Thanks again. Mini Peacelet Xx_

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 **Advent Calendar**

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24\. Mulled Wine

Rita stepped through the automated doors first, the blast of toasty air welcoming to her chilled bones. The scents of wintry spices combined with the smokey glow of a traditional fire, hissing and crackling, tickled their nostrils, a tender hum of music whistling in the background amongst chatter.

The atmosphere was classy, alive with bubbling young business couples to more older pairs who evidently had a mature taste for elite wines. Everyone sported smart attires of tailored suits and elegant dresses. The nurse instantly felt excluded in her skinny jeans, t-shirt and leather jacket, consciously stroking at invisible creases. Yet the brunette was perfect for this crowd.

"You look fine," Connie murmured consolingly, politely accepting the greeting drink of a glass of sweet champagne - the only chilled beverage of the evening. Tonight was a special, to celebrate the festive mulled wines.

Arm linked with the younger woman, the clinical lead strutted in the direction of a vacant table she had located in a prime position; next to the roaring flames of a spitting fire. Perfect to thaw their icy fingers and feet after the bitter walk in the company of whirling glacial winds and crisp snow.

Shortly after, a man and lady entered the room who were hosting the mulled wine tasting and making evening. While the female began pouting out the first glasses of crimson drink freshly heated from the simmering saucepan, the male spoke. There was six mulled wines to try, all from different origins and all up for discussion regarding their spices. Then they would proceed to have a go at creating their very own concoctions.

All intentness deflected towards the petite blonde who had remained merely quiet and omitted from participation with her thoughts. She had lost track of the other comments long ago. Her cheeks burned an even darker shade of red, already rosy and flushed from the quantity of wine she had consumed. Azure orbs flickered momentarily; she blinked repeatedly whilst she gazed into the new glass of steamy burgundy liquid through her curly eyelashes, inhaling the latest aromas.

"Uhm.." Pause. Wine stained lips pressed around the sixth glass and she swallowed a tiny sip, brain ticking to decipher the ingredients. "Cherries, orange, cloves, black pepper...nutmeg and...I'm also getting a hint of pine cone or twig?!"

Rita scrunched her features at the unpleasant after taste that had prompted her final flavour. Though all the seasonings had now fused together, mirroring all the mulled wines to have the same taste as they hazed her vision and blurred her head, this one was her least favourite.

Irritated and nettled scoffs and mocks were exhaled beneath others breaths. Connie's glossy lips had twitched at the corners whilst she suppressed a slight snigger from behind her crystal glass. Trust her girlfriend to come out with that remark. The quality of wine was exquisite and an acquired taste for lovers of mature, strong red wine. She was fully aware that her nurse would never have been able to afford any of the maroon spirits before, but she desired her company.

"If you are not going to take this seriously then we suggest you leave, right now. Don't ruin this evening for everyone else." The words were an ominous hiss from the male host, rather blunt and hostile.

The sophisticated consultant intervened sharply, "No, that won't be necessary, thank you. We were invited here just like everybody else, and we are all entitled to voice our own opinions. If Rita could taste... _pine cones and twigs_...then so be it." She narrowed her icy gaze.

"Fine." A disapproved mutter, "But you can go sit at the back for the mulled wine making session. And no more nonsense."

They shifted into a connecting room that was routinely occupied by a local cooking class; several little island counters were dotted about the space sensibly, all with access to running water and a source of heat. Neatly aligned on each polished work space were a saucepan and utensils, a bottle of red wine, and a diverse assortment of spices and flavourings. Each couple also had a crisp sheet of white paper, printed with simple instructions and recommendations.

"Sooo, what do we do first?" The blonde queried, words laced with an inquisitive edge, as she carefully drained the wine into the pan and deposited it onto the hob.

Connie's response came as a narrative, dictating from guide provided, "Using low heat, allow the wine to simmer to a gentle boil."

With the heat twisted on, the emergency department duo diverted their curiosity to the additional ingredients to select what would be in their own custom mulled wine. "Cinnamon, nutmeg, black pepper, cloves, orange, lemon, star anise, ginger, vanilla, bay leaves-"

Rita interrupted her lover's list of spices with a serious question, her features deadly grim and plain, "We are not putting any of that stuff in that leaves that truly awful dirty bark taste in the back of your throat." Matter of factly and reinforced with a sternly, pointed finger.

A graceful laugh drifted from the older woman's lips, pearly white teeth displayed as she grinned and held her hands in surrender, "Okay, okay! What shall we add then?"

Concluded on the warming, zesty supplements, the nurse peered into the saucepan and swirled a spoon through the liquid with a perplexed expression sketched across her face, "Con," she frowned, "Why isn't it heating?! It's still bone cold."

Her trademark Louboutins clicked as she stalked over to the hob for a detailed inspection in hope of diagnosing the problem. The error was blatantly obvious and she chuckled, "It always helps if you either place the pan over the correct heat source or switch on the corresponding ring of where the pain is situated, Reets!" A tweak of the knobs, "See, resolved. Now, perhaps you should read the suggest quantities for our chosen spices and leave this to me."

The blonde huffed but wisely didn't object; she secretly knew that her girlfriend was right. Effects and influences of the previously consumed alcohol were really starting to sink in, concentration levels dipping and a fuzzy sensation rising. She squinted at the advice, studying it intently,

"First, a lemon." Dropping the paper, she sliced the lemon into even chunks and allowed Connie to add them to the now simmering concoction.

"A couple of bay leaves."

Various components later, the pair added the final element. Cinnamon. Rita confidently handed the pot of cinnamon and required measuring spoon size to the brunette. And some ten minutes later, she poured their mulled wine through a colander to extract the undissolved ingredients and drizzled some into two glasses to cool.

The ambience was thick with indulging, festive spices. Steam evaporated from the cooling mulled wines, bursting with the toasty scents of Christmas. Connie was first to try the beverage once it was of moderate temperature, eager and optimistic. Though her enthusiasm was short lived.

"What the hell?!" She exclaimed with exasperation, grimacing as the liquid trickled down her throat and burned with an equally fiery yet bitterness.

The blonde cough and spluttered, "That's disgusting!"

Connie raked her fingers through her ocean of silky, soft curls with one hand and groaned whilst scrutinising the instructions, "Rita!"

"What?!" Innocently bewildered.

"It says a slice of lemon! You gave me an entire lemon! And as for the cinnamon, it says a _tea_ spoon." She grasped the measuring spoon her girlfriend had elected, "This is a _table_ spoon! No wonder it burns so much."

Her cheeks flushed a dark crimson, mirroring of the shade of the mulled wine, "Oops." She dissolved into hopeless giggles at her own intoxicated stupidity.

"Don't worry, darling," Rita grinned, "I have just the perfect plan for this. Wait until you try Rita Freeman's mulled fruits! It's going to be scrumptious!"


End file.
